You wade barefoot into the creek,
your dress damp to your knees
and you turn back to see
if I would follow you.
How do I tell you
about the ghosts I see
nipping at your toes,
minnows in the water,
about the little mouths of shadows
that sail lazy among the leaves
on the surface of the stream?
The sunlight filters down
to glisten on the eddies and on you
and you splash laughter dancing,
but how do I tell you
as sweet as wading in the river
of your happiness sounds,
I can join you with my body
but not with my soul.
I am shorebound today,
unbaptised and heavied,
there are rocks in my pockets
that your laughter cannot lighten,
I cannot go into the water with you
but please keep laughing,
and splash your joy upon my face,
pour cupfuls of it over my head,
you chase the ghosts with brightness
back into their shallows,
you make the shadows shut their mouths.
— Adam Kamerer