All the way back
I watch the rain in leaf lock
the streets bent in the wet rock
of autumn—a mote
between your goodbye
and the promise of the hunt

how many broken minutes
how many twinning hours
how many nights not knowing

if the jay that flew
into the house is omen
or circumstance?

Outside the wind scrapes its wrists
on window screens
and tugs at the remaining dust
before the slant of rain
comes again

and the wait, the practice
as if I could store these jammed
jars of absence for what is
to come
whether now
or later.

FREYA ROHN was born and raised in Portland, Oregon. She recently received her MFA from the low-residency program at the University of Alaska, Anchorage, where she was a recipient of the Jason Wenger Award for Poetry. Her poems have appeared previously in Cirque. She lives in Anchorage, Alaska, with her husband and son.