the river has stopped rising
trees are in it up to their hips
there are no islands anywhere
only birch and aspen swaying
in water their hair a shimmer
of green and yellow light I sit on the porch
my hair gathers seeds white fluff
pods fine yellow pollen a dark butterfly
passes by in the wind another shimmering light-
catching thing starlings whistle sky
story-book sky all blue with sweet white
clouds sun lays its buttery hand across
clover columbine tulips smooth river
stones in the garden this small poem is
for mariah on this her eighteenth birthday