1.

If the river is pushing us under

and the jacket he gave me

has saved the beating in my chest

as faintly whispered alarm bells,

friends who will come running,

his kiss of life, our shelter

under the tree he planted with

not one night to face fear alone-

then this life vest is his to wear.

Will you unwrap the arms

you don’t feel anymore

and lift my head off your chest.

Undo my cowardice in an old-fashioned way

for the pull of the river does not set

the swimmer apart from the drowning.

The water forgives itself flowing under the bridge.

2.

Until I hear the bells that toll

the victory of heaven and hell borne,

this stream will kindly bury me in its mud.

It will keep me, it will heal me. And I’ll swim again.

A spot of disbelief on this blinding reflection, its current strong.