The Montana Girl Speaks of Water
after Langston Hughes
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
Eddies and bays abound
in my retreat to the mists
of the Missouri River falls, climbing
rock cliffs, toeing dirt, sliding
down the banks of graveyards
to a wide lazy
shoreline, retracing steps
once laid down with such skip,
such snap little girls had back then, still
wading in shallow water
with rolled cuffs and muddy elbows,
dreaming all the world was one
cool, shin-high ripple.
This poem was originally published in Babel Fruit. Click Here.