for Alice on her birthday*

It was a day that
you weren’t there
to share this ford
in the country road
this river-crosser
where I lingered
long that afternoon:
to watch
the gentle water pass
and mirror
the overarching trees
cover the sunken stones

The road fell
into the river’s kiss
immersed for a moment
between its lips
of ripple and flow
and letting go
it rose refreshed
revealed and wet
on the other side
. . . and dried