América

The river was deep & wide.

                                           Wild girls grew along

the riverbanks. Wild strawberries grew

          among the wet grass. A girl tramped barefoot.

Her tips arrowed. The tracks wept

                                           in the distance. She scavenged

            wild strawberries. The river water stung her mouth.

The water turned her skin sky. Alone

                                                              the girl knelt to sift water

           through her fingers. There was once a dock

                                                              with a wooden boat. Once a general.

                                           Once a sister. Once a mother who hid

behind the general. Once a machete.

                                           Once a girl who swallowed the salt.

She held the resonance of chromatic

                                           harmony. The quiet of faded mist.

The lines of riverbank made everything still.

                    The girl understood the river’s undying blue.

The river of uncut red flowers. The river

                                                             flooded &

                              drowned. Once a sodden hummingbird.

Once a lone foal. The girl was not allowed

                                         to speak Spanish. The girl wore a garland

of speech. She found she was only half

                                         of everything. Half of her mother.

The general took her downriver.

                                                    Scavenging.

                                         The wild strawberries. It was spring.

                               The strawberries were held below ice.

It was winter. The general commanded

                               her to lie down. The pain

was a thud of a knife & boot blade

                                         deep in the hull of her hips.

The girl left her body. Her spirit rose.

                                                    She herself  became the crumpled shape

of a saturated bow. The river

                              created a halo of sound.

                                        She still held a strawberry in her hand.

She looked like a perfect crumpled bow.

                              She was lying on the ground.

She thought she was lying on the sky.

                              The quiet of the faded mist.

                                                        The lines of riverbank made everything kill.

                    The girl wanted to escape the undying blue.

The girl was only half of her mother. The girl was

                                          strong against tide. The girl learned

                                           

                     to forget. The girl was nothing but water.

                                                               She lay on the sky.