The river transported us
through a dramatic ravine.
We'd hoped to be rejuvenated by the waters
but ended up soaked,
cold and losing all our food.
You came down witha fever
the next day.
and we were alone.
remote from love.
I watched you change your clothes with cynicism.
One of your breasts was smaller than the other
and you had told me it would be a perfect
you caught our dinner with a net
salvaged from an abandoned chack
down by a flow along the river.
It was a rainbow trout.
We cooked it over an open fire.
Our stomachs, drunk with ecstacy,
Thanked us for remembering that they, too,
had come along for the trip.
Labels: emerging artists, poetry, will brady