Home In On Out

what is a creek
what is a house / the full

tally of waterways
cannot be accessed

this way / another flood
shuts down the lake

drive / meanwhile
California burns up

then down
colder than hell

makes sense for some
not this northern girl

I’ve been living here
too long / anywhere

there’s a drop
I will test for salt

to be certain
my own sitting down place

has a view
of the devil

as it spouts
on and off

November Snow Wants to Be Something It Isn’t

reds oranges yellows even greens
can’t be overcome by white
the year has gotten so old
not old enough to remember / why

do I have to explain
the absence of trees
in Iceland
isn’t the image enough

slurry flurry
It will fade
by morning
with tonight’s stars

I say good-bye
not to the river
I say good-bye
not to the people

I say good-bye
to a view
a proximity a perspective
a cache of stories

worth retelling
in new light

the day my father died
I walked the river for hours
the nearest body of water
that moved him

every waterfront
is another bear hug
smiling eyes damp with tears
I inherited

I am saying good-bye
to him again
over and over again
the rush of the falls

someone lights a fire
to warm the room
the Mississippi’s not going anywhere
please don’t be a lie