This woman
brave and joyful
beneath
ancient red cedars
swims free
in the tumbling river
of late snow melt.
Strange to me,
These songless northern forests.
Our past, from another land,
I chose to forget,
now raises its shadow
over this valley.
This is the child I bore
when still a child.
She has found her way
through these woods,
her path not mine.
Single file I follow.
How to say
take care, or something
like, a warning,
meaning the same?
In words carrying
sense without hurt.
Make a moment
to remember our story,
give it more
wisdom than
was truly so. Saying,
I too was there,
once.
And the river flows
through this autumn
as the moon wanes
and pale salmon gather
strength for their last swim
against the rush,
to die silent in deep pools.
