Girls At The River
The Girls at the River

The north fork of the Little Dove cut across my grandfather’s land
Where I ran wild as a boy
All the child’s games I played with sticks and string and stone
And anything that floated on the current

Once I wandered past the boundary into Thomas Rowan’s land
It was the summer I turned eleven to twelve
And at the river’s bend I saw Thomas Rowan’s lovely daughters
Walking naked into the water to bathe themselves

I still had a child’s sense of mystery and wonder
But breathless and watching, I felt my blood shift
When they lifted their arms to wash their long dark hair
Then bent to rinse in the stream

The arc of their motion an unspeakable gift
Thomas Rowan’s daughters
Standing in thigh high water
Move through the current of my dreams

The arc of that moment is a lifelong gift
Thomas Rowan’s daughters
Standing in thigh high water
Still move through the current of my dreams