Beneath our boat
a swimming bear—
I tell myself to be afraid
but I’m too delighted
by its brown body,
elongated and sleek
moving like a wave itself
in the clear, clear water.
A marriage, too,
is a boat. Or is it
the bear?
Or is it the man
and the woman
in the boat,
watching beneath them
the most exquisite
dangerous thing,
something that could kill them
but chooses instead
grace.