Allison Adelle Hedge Coke

    just go where they’re made to

when everything else goes awry.

Eagle Tail in stilled time

the body lifting surface

where churning falls gave

walleye, trout, coolness

for multitudes, generations,

now quiver his resolute effort to

something larger than humanness.

                                           Was it?

Or, was it the core of humanness?

Was it melody? Rhythmic water

moving serpentine as it had always

grasped? Carrying, then delivering

the boy back to surface.

                                    In turn taking in

the child’s sister with brave stranger to

people the underneath where

we seldom belong.

                             Are they now nearer

the center we stepped from?

Nearer where we all lived,

yet gone? In this world we lose

the ones who give the most.

The fruit of toil, its mission.

More than we muster.

                               Each time the water

surges and crashes, I feel his words,

“I got him. Hold onto me. I won’t let go.”

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