NH

Low tide stretched slowly

over and again in the bay,

pulling its fingers
through the sand,
quiet embraces
before retreating to the sea.

Under the bridge
forgotten fish hooks pile,
scattered and left
on the stone ledges,
tidal offerings.

untitled

you pulled the body
out of the water

after it became swollen
and heavy with the lake

that rushed into the lungs
did it still feel human

I do not know
if you told me

boy or girl

2-23-13

I see you falling
every night, feel the water
folding over you.

Schoharie Creek

We drove
past farm stands lining the shoulder
leaving dust stirred by our wheels
to settle over the baskets
heaped with lettuce.

The pull-off
was marked with the pattern
of tractor tires that followed
the meandering outline
of young corn rows.

 A wall
of layered rock
met the creek bed on one side,
smoothed from years of the water's
tender lapping.

We lowered
our bodies and tried
to seek bottom in the dark
sinking deep to find nothing
and losing breath.