To hold still in the current
is not enough is only to
accept the effort of suspension
a salmon treading water
in the moving stream
Nor should the river or the fish
love the dam and why would
the water-buried village forget
the once open doorways of churches
their stained glass windows gone
dark pressed upon by deeper dark
Under the town clock’s long hands
turning like milfoil weed
the drowned streets of the heart
invite no one to meet and kiss
No you don’t forgive the dam
But neither do you blame the lake
that grew against it
that shoulders its given
load and holds up the injured
children who come to float on it
innocent above flooded farms
At water’s edge the exposed rocks
stay warm to the touch
of the sun long after nightfall