Water Comes Upon Us - Katherine Hastings

[Larry Robinson]

Water Comes Upon Us

We wander the blossom filled meadow
of a newly birthed common
spring in our blood, the taste of spring

on our skin, in our hair. Spring is in
the songs of the wending words
floating between us, words taken

from the latest film, the latest book, the news. 
We give each other the music of our mouths,
hard land crunching beneath our heels,

note the young trees with their first blooms.
For decades I have watched you - young girl
in a frilly dress belted by guns and holsters -

leap from the blue bridge into the Niagara.
Your determination was a lovely dive,
a dare, your platinum hair an unwilling

accessory to grace. As you flew off
between paper mill and docks, I climbed hills
backwards to face the bay, my Golden Gate.

We hadn't met, of course, but I thought
I heard you say, Lean into me like a wave.
We rode the water as the water wanted -

smooth at times, then rough. Stars landed their light
on the slick deep blue of it
or turned to us their black backs.

We walk and I say The apple blossoms of young trees
fade so soon, but you are in the middle of a story
pulling a girl to shore, pulling me, those falls

roaring in the distance, and I know,
as that water always knew, something about
electricity, how we'd go over together.

      - Katherine Hastings

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