Ruth Foley, “Water Strider”

orange line

Water Strider

It’s not balance with us,
love, so much as care
in where we place our feet.

If we were capsized
you would rise without
thought and I could follow.

If we could claim to belong
below or to each other.
If we could skim the world

beneath our feet. I have
already forsaken ground.
You watch the skies.

I check for fish, for some
ascending destruction.
Don’t think, love, just

move. If only I could make
you test the tension it could
—just once—hold us.

 


Ruth Foley lives in Massachusetts, where she teaches English for Wheaton College. Her work appears in numerous web and print journals, including Adroit, Sou’wester, and Valparaiso Poetry Review. She is the author of the chapbooks Dear Turquoise and Creature Feature, and the full-length collection Dead Man’s Float (forthcoming from ELJ). She serves as Managing Editor for Cider Press Review.


 

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