I follow the river bank, look for

crushed and trampled grass, the clearing where 

I hold my breath.
I know secrets. Finally, the woods -

and cool water, take the river into

myself.  If I weren't brave I’d forget

to move past my broken family, unclaimed, unnamed.
I’d feed them black walnuts and ground cherries.
We’d share one story. Instead

they do not know me. Now 
I step forward, the camera my heart and 
overhead, sky. There’s a thousand echoes,

galloping hooves. I look back to the river
which flows relentlessly, carrying every story of who or what I was supposed to be. And the sun

sets, leaving a dimming

gold. I get into 
the open and up towards the light, shimmer,

stars