the fisherman’s song of despair

una cancion desesperada or oncorhyncus mykiss

by aaron abeyta

in my trout dream
you are twin to the dawn
the pearl of your belly
that is the sky in the

brief breaths    the moments
of sunless light    a wash of pink
guazing at the center of you
ghosting away at your caudal edges

and in the human chamber
of my heart where it
hilts up against the primal
and the uncharted

i assume that on the fifth day
God had grown weary and therefore
created you to perfect
the domes and orbits that preceded you

so that every possible
sky might be foretold
there upon
your wet body

this shadowless light
milks its white breath
against the river    and there
in the riffles and the deep pools

the trout queue themselves
in a braid of shadows
they are the movement of dreams
what man looked upon when he created music

consistently as the slow dreams
where i hold you
i remember that the phoenicians

had an alphabet
the egyptians    written words
but neither was blessed enough to
have written your name    to have

held you in the God light of dawn
and what of that fourth chamber
the one whose room
has flooded and is yours

the dead trees along the river
have forgotten what they are
everything is part wish
part shadow    this indescribable light

of madrugada rubbing itself
against this river    and i should not have
touched you    and because of you
dreamt of rain or a slope of trees or

a moonlit snowstorm or a ribbon
of stars landed and touchable
your body a constellation
to my wishes

spilling back into the river
toward the secret spot of the human body
the haunt of you
barely there in my hand

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love poem on stone

i’ve loved her
perhaps not like i should have
but more like the specks of white
thinnest and scattered salt
blended into this stone

she is the blade of grass
from scripture
the green and crescent hand
of the river whose sweat
she rolled into this stone

this stone whose river voice
has kissed at the edges of me
bent itself slowly
into the shape of
this stone

red stone   small corazon
of shadow where the river of
her right hand    her skin
thumbs fingers thumbs
caresses this stone

smooth stone   work stone
that is the way i
should have loved her
like a slow rolling that brings
her scent into the wind

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the fragile vessel

this fragile vessel is four hummingbirds
darting   hovering   tasting at lilacs
like bees   they seem to have only one purpose

to find what is sweet or beautiful    to linger
at the colorful mouths of returning spring
the fragile vessel that is four hummingbirds

has wings that cannot be seen
my body that is also four hummingbirds
like bees seems to have just one purpose

this particular human heart beats 132,480 times a day
opening and closing    it must beat for someone
this fragile vessel is four hummingbirds

tracing the flower’s petals to where
the nectar sweet neck bows to the ground
i   like bees with a single purpose

hover at the scent of your spring neck
taste at the flower of your lilac eyes
like bees this particular heart has one purpose
a fragile vessel   this heart   four hummingbirds

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Review of Rise, Do Not Be Afraid

High Country News contributor Annie Dawid reviewed Rise, Do Not Be Afraid.

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Welcome to my blog

I’ll be posting information about events, new work, and more.

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