Saugeen

In the yellow field of rapeseed,
I left my lungs
breathing, wet and greedy, in the sun;
and pale-barked trees whose names nobody seemed to know
stood like gateposts, letting all things in.
At the bottom of the slope, the shallow, broad river
lay belly-up to dare the clouds,
and I immersed myself in its thin, brown water,
left my eyes to float on its surface.

When I go home, I will be broad and brown like sunshine,
and missing pieces, empty with happiness.
This clean-through, never-washed country grows, self-driven;
my fingers and toes stick to it,
burs in its hair.

This is what could have been,
what still can be.
And if I swallowed all the river,
it might be sweet; it might go down
like medicine, make me choke and vomit.
But I will never know, because
I cannot drink--my belly
is already full.