As the ground stilled, stunned
the water receded.
Above the sirens
and gnashing of roofs
into walls,
her voice, I breathed.
I’m not
a young man.
The shore bowed
with an artist’s deference
and the wall behind her
opened like a mouth.
Orpheus shaking
in a wet underworld,
I lifted her,
heavy on my back
when I expected
lightness.
Throat to my ear,
she hummed the song
and I climbed
as the town became shore,
I climbed
and she became weightless,
I climbed
bearing the song that contained
both our lives,
I climbed
as water roared like applause,
rising like an an audience on its feet.
