What Rivers Know

Rivers are born knowing fish and birds

mountains, wind and rain

Old rivers know the rio abajo rio, 

riding on ink stains, arrow heads

the bone dust of horses, mules and buffalo

Deeper still,

molecules of murder persist on different currents:

hair still young when the body’s gone,

names drifting like clouds across borders 

Here, 

in these countries beneath our country,

rivers tell history —

stories of ricocheting words, 

children taken 

only the river’s voice 

keeping them real