Monthly Archives: March 2008

Seeing you the other night was like
sticking both my arms elbow deep
into the bottom of an icy spring
cupping them and trying to take a drink.

My hands went numb holding
sediment and leaf mold,
waterlogged twigs, and moss
coated with a thick brown scum.
A moment before the water had
looked clear and sweet.

Seeing you was also like turning the taps on
after weeks away from home.
The water rushed out bloody and spat rust into the sink
and I stood back and watched it run.

Seeing you can not be like
seeing that yellow afternoon light
that comes in sideways and
reveals the air all around us
is secretly crowded with dust.
 
Sitting on hard plastic in fluorescent light
I remember how you once bit me
gently on the wrist and
I try to picture clean water rising with time,
coming right out of the ground.