Drift

I drift with the swift drift the river,

Even as I stand on the shore,

Coming and going,

Part of and apart,

Inside and out,

A confusing mix of rip tides

That draw me in

My fingers clinging

To the satin lace of fox tails

I know can’t secure me

Or keep me from falling in,

Nor can my feet be as firm as roots

Aching to dig deep into ground

I know won’t hold me

Needing something to hold onto

And something to hold on to me,
reading the reeds

As I did as a kid

Dreams filling the seams

With lacy faces of fancy ladies

Uprising out of the mists,

Whose songs draw me in and

Draw out of me

As I search out that face

In that space

With the ache

That face

Is looking back

And somehow,

Still connected,

Even as the river flows

Even as time goes,

Even as I know

I’ll hang on here

As long

As I have to,

Clinging to the reeds

And this river.