Be dressed in the quiet now rare

In the beds pressed

close to houses, there is the lesson

to be dressed

but not in the day’s old clothes,

or in the wanting that was wasted

but rather to be

dressed in the quiet

now rare: to stonden tall in the rightwise

to be coiled

in the center, but not to strike. To

unabashedly burgeon.

A wander

by the river pouring

into a bay gives a fiercer

gospel: live

like the soon-to-be wild

rice, growing

at the edges. For you never know when

it will come:

the canoe

and getting beaten with a stick.