# [Poetry Outdoors](https://poetryoutdoors.substack.com/)

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| # [The Forecast of Grief](https://poetryoutdoors.substack.com/p/the-forecast-of-grief)<br>[Poetry Outdoors](https://substack.com/@poetryoutdoors)<br>Jun 21<br>31<br>7<br>2 |
| Your weekly Mary Oliver poem and writing prompt. |
| [Read →](https://poetryoutdoors.substack.com/p/the-forecast-of-grief) | |
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Skying  
Birds on my chest. Sky  
like a face about to break  
bad news. Wordless drifting  
on a stream of unconscious  
thought. incomprehensible  
texture of an old damp coat.  
Inside, lights forget their own  
off-switches, lackadaisically  
senseless, produce  
a sweet halogen glare.  
Replace the sun with the un-sun. Constable  
used to observe the wet weather.  
tracing the shape of the clouds,  
called it skying. I can’t look up anymore.
