Moab Poem by Mike Finley

On Sunday when the family was camping
Three miles up the Colorado from town,
The little boy wandered too close to the water.
His sister screamed as he was carried away
And she said she saw him wave goodbye
Although he might have been reaching for help.
A man who lived three doors down in Salt Lake
Was camping in a lot marked No Camping Allowed.
He had agreed to keep watch on the river.
The methane in the decomposing body
causes it to float, he said, and we get the boy back.
and what could I tell him but good luck.

I think of the moment the father experienced,
The moment every parent sits up in bed
Because you have let down your guard
And the treasure is gone, you will never get it back
And your punishment is for that instant
To freeze over forever like unmeltable ice.
And you say, If only I had done this or that
Or if only my last words had not been so sharp.
Doggone it Elmer can't you see daddy's busy?
Can't you play by your sister where you're not in the way?
It was your number one job to keep an eye on him.
God will forgive you but that's about it.