Finding Hiddekel

Written 2007

I might as well have landed

in the dry riverbed of Hiddekel.

There is an epiphany at eleven

that crying cannot save you,

even the gentle persuasion of hands

cannot comfort you,

places where voices will not reach.

Ultimately, gravity becomes your love-mate.

Then you understand fish will drown in air,

floating is only the memory of babies

and for those things

beneath the slick pebbled water.

Written by K.