Flow
       

So much water in the gully,
islands submerged in the river, water
springing from the rock, dear little waterfall
in June, town still green in August,
snow unmelted in the mountains, nights
beginning to turn cold again. In September
we will not follow the creek
up into the meadows, this summer
of the dog's leg healing, summer of your heart
sometimes slowing, sometimes going too fast
though I swear with its new wires,
its perfect beat, I can see the blood, how it flows
now as it should, how it washes through you
cleansing worry from your face.

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Copyright © 2012 Maxine Scates All rights reserved
from Crazyhorse
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission