Gabe
by Gabe Redel
The water around her ankles
where the small fish
have clouded
has a minty green color,
much like broken green glass.
I was once with her
over the bluff against the trail
that began at a fire.
We were too much
for the little bears
who laughed under our song,
who tipped a cooler
and played ball.
Out on the ridge
we continued our song.
How she could sing.
Gosh, how she could sing.