& black ants swirling at our heels
this final summer nothing but
mandible & sleek salamander skin,
prisms of dragonfly wings in dappled light

you bend to drink the clear creek water
like a new fawn & i
cup my hands at its cool altar,
a fledgling waterfall feeding our sacred
creek in this valley

down here some pools are as dark as mirrors,
water black enough to plunge into body-deep,
kissing tiny rainbow trout, circling
with the silvery minnows, our
child-cheeked faces disappear in the silt
that swirls to the surface

we stack river rock &
mossy stone pulled flat
from the creek’s muddied bed
for our last summer, a cairn
to cradle our wildling skins, now asleep,
the wonders we wash out in the laughing water

/

Danielle McMahon lives in PA with her family. Her poetry can be found in Unlost, Street Cake, Lines+Stars, and others.