Weathering the storm --------------------------------------------------------- We travelled hundreds of miles in weather worse than this, trading shifts and sleeping fitfully as snowstorms rocked the tiny brown Datsun. We were grateful to reach Utah, and later, to reach the Oregon border. You asked me to marry you. That was the year I discovered I couldn't love you anymore. Driving home last night in white blindness I thought of you for the first time in months, thought of your safe harbour in Portland. I spent the night listening to the wind howl, knowing its need to feel trapped by desire. This afternoon, finally, a bleak sun, thin: the sky snowscrubbed and whitewashed with hues of blue. Everything is clean and still. Wading through snow to my hips, I lie in a cold drift. I want to believe there are angels here. Feeling quiet inside and out, I wait for the thaw. october 1998