Cross Water Poem by peauladd huy

So much is promised by water
& the pasture is a heaven
sky and below
an easy hill burns till the last structure’s
a pile of ashes. & embers
a wounded grey, without wind & rain
to dance the fire to soot
& masks—so little is left without ash
powdered its outside. Anything more is
more than here. More than what
we can only guess what the gods thought
after you’d slipped past to the garden’s meadow
to toe in the calm water.
I told you the rain’s gone. & the pond is showing root
bound along the parched edges,
where new growths come like almost all things
is almost a healing—

Morning, a breath of wind quickens the sleepy
necks of switchgrass between desolate & blackened trees—

as random as scars
sorry on something’s made to live—

See. Eventually, the dark marks wane
graduating almost whole shadow
moonlight cast between puddles & holding light.