Multnomah Falls

 

Multnomah Falls

Mrs. Peters who just last week was teaching you
handwriting on Zoom, sweet Mrs. Peters
just died of the virus.
Died really fast.
I hold you and ask how you feel.
‘Small,’ you say. ‘Really small.’
Me too.

We go to Multnomah Falls.
On the footpath bridge
water splashes cold wind.
Droplets form on eyelashes
which makes us feel we’re crying.
In the roar we have to shout.
A couple of bare-face teens are kissing
and couldn’t care less. You ask
if you may pull down your mask
to spit and watch the gob fall
down, down, down.
I say ‘Me too!’
and then we both spit.

I say ‘You know, don’t you,
you aren’t so really small.’
You, my spirit guide, you
take my hand and say
‘The gobs will reach the ocean.’

……

First published in Bracken. Thank you editor Alina Rios.
photo by Abhay Bharadwaj