Joyce Schmid, Even the Air

…even the air
is independable…
–HD

Lavender,
why are you straining toward me?
I am not the sun.
Day lily,
I have no reprieve.

And you, my little sister,
when you grasped at me that day
as to a tree-branch jutting from the shore, I didn’t know
the rapids overwhelming you

were real
and you were really
being swept away.