The Moon

The water. Only the flashed water. The water in the river.
          Nothing but the flowing water, not even
(shore) or (overhanging branches), just the water in
           & of the river. The water moves from Hiroshima
but stays, grayblue, browngreen, the infinite divisi-
          bilities of yellows & cherry reds all suffused
with shadow, the murmuring movement of the water.
          But since we need this, & since it is there & not there,
we allow the presence of moon in river—see
          how it stays as the water leaves Hiroshima but remains.
We remember what the moon was, before we walked on it.
          Some say a Christ can walk on water,
but this river’s water cannot bear the weight of such
          a divine personage, even the Buddha’s dilemma
is how not to drown in it as he sips moon from that water.