A
pretty anarchist said to me
It's not that great love happens
What
happened became your great love
Her
echo had an ancient glow & so
proved buoyant for my little
craft
I
left the world & felt a world
The
bee loading its gloves with powder
The albatross wanting one thing
from the sea
Nothing
can wreck our boat said she
&
when the water felt the glacier
The future held a present tense
The
present held a future without cease
Brenda
Hillman
From
Practical Water, 2009
