Let Water Flow

Mon, 12/22/2014 - 19:49 -- Q.V.

We passed along the Colorado River

many times that dark October night.

And each time you said to me,

"look for the water"— I called out

to the darkness bound to the road

and there was no reply.

 

Once, eager as a water bead,

you clutched orphaned sandals in your hands

and stirred the brown vein of Colorado

looking for shells. Light broke

over your windfallen hair,

and my eyes began rippling

like the river's living flesh.

 

We rode the highway late that night

as it galloped along the Colorado river.

And your right hand peeked outside

to hail goodbye to a dark canvas—

not knowing whether the river

was still awake or dreaming.

 

Suddenly,

a silver river drifted by above our heads.

 
 

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