ON NANTAHALA; JULY
Bare roots twist incredible designs
Cascading down to drink the river
They float between the banks among
The rocks you say “Lie back and
Look up, Mom”—green bordering
Blue you say “What do you hear?”
You say “the water” and she
Thinks she hears the wings
Of angels whispering
All that needs to
Matter is the
Lazy flow of
The river.
written 1998
