I set the paper boat to sail,
its eight creases softening
as the water receives it.
What boats this river has

swallowed—my father, my brother,
my granddaughter.
I set my wishes into the hull
and tie my sorrows to the mast.

I let the little boat bend
with the swells and dip as
the current takes it, takes it
to the sharp rocks or the soft shore.

 

 

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