Old river bed

this granite sings in the sun
shining mica and quartz
in shades of pink and red and grey
in paint made from oxide,
blood and fat
songs of nourishment and decay
body and spirit
still here
through centuries
of rain and snow
and flood

*

traveling over the green
ribbon unwinding
between white waves,
I find myself unfolding,
discover I am
mouthing into the wet
and spinning air
songs and words that haven't
surfaced for long years

*

ragged pink granite cliffs hold
us and the boats and the water
in their tight embrace
I am flooded
with old-rooted memories
of my mother
her round arms
and softness
singing
holding
me