For Raymond Carver
Even with time’s lapsing,
water continues to fill
the pages of your stories
I’ve inherited.
Examined as many
of the rivers, lakes,
and streams you inhaled,
wrote on, and lived near
as I could.
It makes perfect sense
for me to be near water;
like it made sense for you.
Still holding out hope
that these bodies will
somehow cleanse me
of all ruin.
Mouth Thorn 