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Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Trinity River Poem

Trinity River

All its weight channels between
slender shoots of rock.  Fast molasses.
Each drop careens toward the sea
past my fly-fishing husband
hand lining a spent trout into his net.
He’s a shallow pool I cannot float upon. 
Our currents in opposite light:
his in speckled shade, mine in full sun.

Our son sifts gold dust through his shirt as he swims, 
then flops goose-pimpled on a white boulder.
A glint that binds, gold in black water,
the brilliance that blinds makes me see--
we’ve been mining this river for years,
but there’s nothing left that sparkles, only sparks.

Originally published as  "El Rio" in  Two Review

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