Woke up at a gale digging
into the roof. Charging, bashing its unseeing
face, clawing nails under
chinks, us beneath: heady
with sleep, too leaden to be swept off, be
whisked away together. Heard a rising
shriek as if the house might be sucked bone-dry,
windows thrown open, letters
blown chirping into the night. All the wrenchable slipped
from our lives, one two all gone! – look at us
bare as the ground. Twixt least and nothing the roof was still
briefly a skin. It began