Melissa Montimurro
 
 

 

          FOR THE LOCAL BOY WHO SLIPPED AND FELL
           WHILE DIVING INTO THE DELAWARE RIVER

 

The boy is at the bottom of the river.

Though they carried his body out,

fashioned a boat of their ponderous grief

to hold him, still:

the boy is at the bottom of the river.

 

No release, no resurrection from

this star-swallowing water completely.

The body taken, yes.

The soul lifted to higher ground, yes.

 

But always a part of him bound to the rocks below.

Always something remains, purling over the stones.

 

Listen—you can hear it,

under the night’s code of crickets

and clang of atoms:

 

the river calling him by name.

His heart singing into the rills.

His parents’ endless keening.

 

The silver fishes of the world

swim right through it.

Copyright © 2003 Melissa Montimurro.  All Rights Reserved.

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