My Voice And The River
I sang with the river and with
those fierce red cliffs that screamed
touch me, and mmm,
things started singing back at me.
Like when you put your finger into the
water and suddenly the two know
I sang a song with the water and
thought I think I got the words wrong,
the river appreciated it—
like how I appreciate the river.
Bees circles onto flowers and, thank God,
my cell phone could not work there, or I might have missed
the little bee sitting on my leg, and
the harmony of my voice and the river.