The First Principle of Water
The drunken sailor in the mountains.
Land pitched to let the water slope
Along the ridges to calm and even
Pasture. His sea legs dangle along
The humpbacked rocks, his eyes
Keen for turkeys strutting mistily
Through a railroad cut. The train
Itself only at evening - its thick
Drumbeat a counterpoint to the
Dragonflies' repose in cowponds
Where the sailor finds smooth water,
Water that loves the sky so much
It reflects it without breaking, lets
The high land nestle in its corners
And the endlessly rocking sailor in
On blackbirds and the blue-eyed
Grass, the cicadas droning overhead.
The waterbeetles skate in segments
A skin that swallows its own ripples
Obeys only the first principle of water-
To follow the sky's dominion, to
Obey no human hand.
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