i

Your message arrived last week. Yes, I understand
the level has dropped. No, the beaver had nothing
to do with it. The largest from your waters
was trapped last winter. I saw the pelt stretched.

I am not with them on this.

ii

I read the rock each time I paddle. Your markings an art.
Mineral glyphs in the golden hour. The watery almanac
shimmers above and beneath the surface. Weather
history becomes dance when your surface ripples
over iron ore jasper granite slate and greenstone.

I fall. Untethered into the depth.

Glacial years submerged, refracted in your story.

Kimberly Blaeser, former Wisconsin Poet Laureate, is the author of five poetry collections including Copper Yearning, Apprenticed to Justice, and Résister en dansant/Ikwe-niimi: Dancing Resistance. A UW–Milwaukee professor and MFA faculty for Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, Blaeser is founding director of In-Na-Po—Indigenous Nations Poets. Additional information is available here: http://kblaeser.org