At the River

When the child was a child

She walked barefoot, wide-eyed

Through forests thick of mud

Til suddenly, drawn apart

She saw the river

In awe, she greeted it

As a friend, 

That is, if a friend took off her clothes

To lie down, urinate, and laugh

When the child was a child

He danced across the shallow streams 

Arriving home

Then stumbled, fell on rock

And cut his lip

To watch the warp and weft 

Of blood tendrils in water

When the child was a child 

She clapped and screamed for joy

As her mother slid down

Rapids on her back

Her breasts glistening in the sunlight

As she laughed

And still does now.