First, the leaves of maple trees catching heaven’s gilded gaze,
casting everything here in brilliant, benevolent shadow.

Then, the shale, a skein of stone shaped by constant
currents, smooth as the skin of a newborn’s wrist.

Next, the burgeoning petals of marigold
welcoming the buzz of bumblebee kiss.

I will be a father soon, and all I know to do
with my hands is submerge them in water
and let the river
cradle me.

Charles Nevsimal is publisher and editor of Centennial Press. He is a regular contributor to THF.