Braid the sunset
And weave the river slow-
Let it sparkle between burnt evening strands,
Hold my hands.
Take my soul
And look through it into the light
That flows between water and sky,
Soothe from it the night
That scratches deep
With clock-face fingers.
Keep the morning shadows too-
Let smooth sun slants
Warm my face,
In the daybreak.
There’s a pattern in the mold beneath the sunset paint,
The cracks above fold like rivers into a dark sea
Rank with rotting fishy skins.
This water boils the dinner plates
After a meal of swamp sauce and
Reeds steamed with the heavy green air
For our dinner on the marsh banks,
Not for the fair or faint of heart.