Christine rides the Empire Builder.

By now she’s crossed Minnesota                                                                               

And in the dawn watches the great plains                                                                              

Of Dakota unfold as if they were the palm                                                                                

Of a hand extended, inviting her to dance.

 

Back before her first step                                                                               

I carried her in a pack on my back                                                                               

To lull her to sleep by the rhythm of my walk                                                                               

Not knowing how that set her                                                                                

To face another direction.

 

I followed Lincoln Creek, a city stream                                                                               

Up toward its source, saw rusted hubcaps                                                                                

Resist like rocks the spring flood water.                                                                               

She woke to trees nodding their heads:                                                                               

This way to the open water, yes, yes, yes.

 

This poem first appeared in The Wisconsin Academy Review (Fall 2000).

Used here with the author’s permission.