River Mercy « Kaweah

At his feet she is laid resting,
holding up the sun to him;
she presses it
up into his boughs,
and carelessly drops the rays
to filter through him.

And he sees his self
image in her
reflections.

She naps between them
this afternoon.
She is her blood; together
they stain the rocks
and earth emerald.

She doesn’t rush about meadows
searching for leaves.

She sits napping in them,
flirting with the sun;
her dreaming eyebrows
laugh at time.

She comprehends me (I stand
ankle deep on the warm,
round pebbles;

I watch the still
currents of thought), and I—

I feel the way she thinks.

She wanders in her musings
against her crescent banks
and canyons.

she grinds them
with her snow fists and
tramples them
with her dall hooves and

I see that they love her.

Kaweah