where the water is

by lauren lockhart

men with their mile counting and their maps
            maps with their measurement and

a curious violence.

the Aspen bends where she wishes, stooping

to touch a white rock
I am surprised to find that she touches me first

and the Hackberry tree advises
that I follow the bird.

I know which one she means,
the one that fits inside my eye

which means
go where the water is

which means
name your daughter before the men begin to measure her.