Bette Jane Camp
Outside of Paris
My red raincoat today,
and besides the flooding river
I can hear
the future through my hood—
the swallowed bridge,
someday.
Someday I’ll check my phone
for the forecast,
the weather people
calling for
rowboats,
heavy traffic south stream.
I’ll consider my closet,
my rubber suits—
grab the old red—
calculate when I can swing
a new one.
Bette Jane Camp’s poems appear or are forthcoming in FORTH Magazine, Blind Glass Magazine and the Northwest Parkinson’s Foundation. She hails from Mukilteo, Washington and currently lives and works in Vermont.
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