for Bev
In our first river west
of the great divide
in that swift current
I remember the water ouzel
appearing & disappearing
the gay couple standing
outside their camper
who mimed its comic
curtsying on shore
the way my brother
described it walking
among the rounded
stones on the bottom
or flying underwater
wings like oars because
its feet were unwebbed
& after it surfaced
inaudible over the roar of rapids
I remember watching
its beak move & wondering
what that watery solitude
sounded like
from within.