THIS WEEK'S WATER

NOW

by Robert King


I shuffle on snowshoes through the pines
in last night’s snow—so where I am

was not here yesterday—and arrive
at a rocky creek, ice tightened
over the chatter of secret water.

Earlier I knew every question,
my name was “He-Who-Answers-Himself.”

Now I am only whatever listens,
whatever sees what’s hidden below
and everything hidden above.

Now I am breaking, coming together.
I am so alive I have forgotten my life.

{published in Many Mountains Moving: a literary journal of diverse contemporary voices, Vol VIII, 2007-2008, http://mmminc.org | post by Jeffrey Ethan Lee, senior poetry ed.}