Summer Woods. For Mother

POEMS OF SUMMER

When we waded to our secret cove I clung to your hand Where icy water stung feet And ripples moved ahead Hurrying water spiders along.

We went to see water lilies Held up by tangles under the dark mirror, And always took one back for Grandmother To float in a dish on the gate-leg table.

The fish hawk watched from her nest In a charred white pine Until the horn of the mail boat Called us back racing, splashing To the dock to get our letters. "You won, you always beat me," You would say laughing, pretending To be out of breath, splashing me.

We could all go back this summer together; I would steady you along the rocky shore, Gather bunch berries for your dresser top, And sketch our cabin on a white fungus.

We could step outside the night Where loons echo what we keep of time Rippled in Northern Lights Where one day becomes A thousand years.

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