On the Way to Youghiogheny River

On the Way to Youghiogheny River
                         
                        I am not scared of the rivers- I treat them with respect


                            I

Up and
          Down
Up and
          Down
    The hill
Up the hill
      And
          Down
Up the hill and
          Down the hill
Up and
          Down
              The hill


    II

My mother almost drowned
With me
While I was
In her belly.
Perhaps that is the fear
I carry ever since.
I’m going to the river Youghiogheny,
And I’m prepared for it.
My life insurance policy
Is at my sister’s:
Increased it yesterday
Just for “in case. ”
I took a bunch of photographs of me
Before I went there
At least you’ll have my face.
And if the river takes me,
I wish for just one thing:
Take my ashes to my great-grandma’s grave
And bury next to hers.




                III
         
The river didn’t take me.
It took my cousin instead.


            IV

To Mantas Saslauskas
    2000- June 18, 2008

Midsummer’s day, or Jonines
Is Pagan’s celebration
When young and old are looking
For the blossom of the magic fern.

To find it
Is to touch a magic
Of undiscovered,
Of unknown
Of glare...

I jumped over the bonfire to bring a year of luck
And sang until the dawn – I made sure voice did twang;
And weaved the wreaths of dandelions 
I washed my face with morning dew
Then floated wreaths on river
Expecting you. Just you.

And prayed to Pagan gods to bring the body
Of innocent,
Of unaware…
Deep Nemunas had taken it
And carried with despair.

It gave it back
This afternoon
So unexpected
So far away from home
Was covered all with flower wreaths
So calm, so deadly cold

The magic fern had blossomed
In garden he played last –
His mother had to hold him
For the last time in her hands.