and let the warm water hold me.
I close my eyes and when they reopen
they are filled with clouds.
I feel no need to name the shapes
as they shift. As I watch,
the sky changes from gray to blue.
I am naked as these winter-simple cottonwoods
ringing the water, though there
is no denying it is spring—
everywhere life is preparing
great change. Buds in the willows.
A robin chatters. Sound of falling water.
Beneath what is bare, there are evergreens.
My empty hands float, and each time I inhale
my chest rises out of the water. Some time passes
before I notice the clench in my gut
has disappeared. That is the way with some things—
so impossible to ignore when they are present,
so easy to miss when they are gone.
I unfold my limbs atop the water’s surface
and open myself to the sun.
The wind ruffles whatever it touches.
I let it touch me everywhere.
To the south, the grayness gathers again.
I see it will be here soon. Scent of coming rain.
As if it were no work at all, I breathe.
