even then, full of the noise of swimmers and a flotilla of inflatables, the goose flew close to her reflection – the white on her wings bright in that dark water. and for a moment all was quiet but the sound of her flight breathing the day. …
if the river god spoke my name would she speak this light on water, this unquenchable thirst, this longing to be submerged – hair river-weed to the tide, the call of the ocean stretching my lungs, pulsing my ears, calling us home water, sand bone and blood. would she take this laughter that rises silver…
in the dark of the water deep among shards of light i swim the softing tide – thrum of river quenching my skin, playing my bones deer flute to the forest sky.