Sandra Pettman - shift

the river drew me to her—

sent her butterfly scouts
to beckon me
down

fir and pine
became birch

silver threads
hemming her in

she called me to her
damp coolness

winding her way
calmly
through hushed canyon walls—

stopped me
at her side

showed me her pebbles and
reeds and flashes of light

the path went on for as long
as I needed

that place at the base
of my spine
eased its ache

I got a breath in

I breathed in the river
  green leaves and wet ground

deep in

I breathed in my footprints
  little bugs scattering
    circling back
      bumping into one another

I held stones in my throat
on the dusty trek home

  nothing is any better
 but the river did call