The Find

How was I to know?

The fish in their slow

turns against the current

never let on how near.

And if I had known could

it have been avoided?

The swan left as if it

were a daily occurrence,

small bits of water weed

clutching at his ankle.

A turtle, her head like

a pipe that drained

the pond, gave no sign.

That day, insects were

forgettable. Just that was

somewhat out of accord. How

could I make any connections?

Martins flew above, they seemed to

be feeding. A bass broke water.

How could I be held responsible?

Anyone could have found her.

I wanted to throw a net around

the pond. I pulled my father

from his TV. How could I explain?

Her hand full of feathers.

Her hair parted by wings.

Her song, like the sound of a small

child saying his name under water.