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i'm balancing in the middle
of a clear, determined river,
listening to its ageless song.
i'm standing, knee deep,
in a north river's cold water
on slippery, granite boulders,
waiting with the rainbow trout
and speckled frogs.
i'd lie down in that river,
to be baptized into the faith
of its carelessness;
its healing hands
smoothing the scars;
washing the skin clean
from the sticky residue of loss.
carry away
the limp memories
of fishing with a father gone.
leave me as a fresh water fish
in the deeper pools,
where water falls;
where the limbs
of october trees
point overhead;
point to a larger sky;
point to a distance.
from salt/ / water
william t marshe
published by NeoPoiesis Press, 2015
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