and the fulfillment of half a year’s promises.
Men and women float themselves on her surface.
Buoyant with expectation, they dip their paddles
in her fluid plenty, claiming for their own
her bends and eddies, her happy irises and
waving grasses, framing it all through mechanical
lenses. The mother moose sees them bob by
from the corner of her muddy eye and doesn’t move.
She stays down and lends her weight to the solid ground.