Werd Na Rumboe
silk cold ribbons of water, cool—
shall swathe the swimmers
and all who bathe with...
tho never did she speak of, or
quiver to sigh...
…..such ribbons in a river today—
if only a canoe, or dreams to flow
and stay, she plead with anchored heels
stay and bathe by the river
clean my navel, rinse my divide
…...tomorrow always, our sorrows shall fall