water birth

it was your father who pulled you
from creek water-- he was bare foot
& cut his jeans off just
above the knees to make shorts--
he had a body thin enough
to snap under his own foot steps--
a twig-- a dowering rod--

the first time i felt your heart
on mine it was like the bodies 
of the minnows frantic against 
my legs-- the next time
was like gnats kamikaze flight
into our faces--

we pretend we don't remember 
our birth here-- between the severed
necks of the drunken mulberry 
trees & willows who 
lament the sun-- who was
the dragonfly with teeth?
we hid our mother under
the rocks where she can be safe
with the crayfish

here we grew lip-hair moss--
dropped our knees like plums
to bruise on the stones-- 

our father made a fishing rod
from a branch of the pear tree
still waiting to become a 
pie in the backyard-- 
lured you in with potato roll
slipped onto the hook

you bit yourself into the
body of a girl & your life 
(as always) 
was accidental--

we all came out of the creek
behind the school yard--
we all ate wild berries & 
didn't check if they were poison--
we all drank from the mug
of our own two hands--

come back
i want to feel you again--
hesitate with me--
feel your body run away 
up stream-- 

you rest your
head on a fallen leaf--
& the water carries it 
on-- the cradle of Moses--

we began in a river--
writhing-- hook mouth
held high by a father
who was still a sliver
of a boy