The River's Bend

I

I want to take you

• to a place

that I love where

• we arrive – but

you do not

• love it too. Still

you hold my hand, a dialogue

• skin to skin. Still

I wish someday to dissolve among birds and fish

• dissolve is

one shape of love, a language we both speak.

• Water sifts

sand and stone, always polishing.

• Water shapes

river in forms of love.

II

In the river, mussels crowd

• shell to shell.

They bump and filter, roll and dig

• over my hand

which holds a palm’s amount of

• river sediment

into which they tuck themselves

• as deep

as possible. It tickles

• and delights.

I feel their experience, their desire

• to disappear.

III

River travels

earth’s scars

face angled

toward sky

gravity

as guide.

IV

I want to take you to a place

• – Snake, Colorado, Green, Río Grande –

along the river’s elbow

• – the spot where animals drink –

a sandbar collects

• – burrowed mussels, young fish and frogs –

V

This is where

heron bows

to the river

a prayer

before

each meal.

VI

I know your skin better

• than your mind.

That which I

• cannot name

remains unnamed and yet

• it is

our language.

Just before the shift

• – like sand –

in this moment all

• – futures exist –

I want to say live

• according to your nature

I want to say – freely – but

• what if

our language depends upon

• the river’s bend?