Over Carolina
I watch the winding creek.
There’s a body
knows how to catch light.Goes all gold
from tongue to inky tail.
One creek’s water spillsinto that of another
easy as a cottonmouth
twists round its mate.You ever seen them at it?
In spring,
lazy under oakshade.They come so close
you can’t tell which
is opening.There’s a love
that’s holy. All giving
and no take.





























