Life by the river
Jamie Samdahl
Every afternoon I swallow rain and it puts me to sleep beside you
I cross over into your river dreams each time our temples touch
the muddiness the sway of the bridge is irresistible
I am keeping a caterpillar in a jar I am feeding it
memories of last summer the morning shadows the mountains wore
purple asters your horror at my scalp sliding and the steadiness of your hands
holding me in place
It wasn’t all so urgent there were whole days without pain and mostly I spent them alone
matching inhale and exhale to the windy muslin curtains
the river in waking life warm as your voice I go to visit the place
deep in the woods where I clean my blood with clover
soak my cut feet in the slow bend
where a stellar’s jay assures me I won’t die
I will never die
of course you don’t believe me when I return
from kitchen with glass of water
from work with wrinkled paycheck
from daydreams with a frown
when I confess
I bloodied my hands picking wild strawberries
scabs
and stain you your hands holding my head
you who has never talked to a bird