The Blue Water Buffalo
have lost a limb to a landmine.
—Newsfront, U.N. Development Programme
Communications Office
is made of emerald silk—sumptuous bolts of it,
stitched by threads of water into cushions
that shimmer and float on the Mekong's munificent glut.
in the steamy distance, and legless
where the surface of the ditch dissects
the body from its waterlogged supports below
in the lukewarm ooze, bending at the waist
with the plain grace of habit, delving for weeds
in water that receives her wrist and forearm
beneath that greenest of green coverlets
where brittle pods in their corroding skins
now shift, waiting to salt the fields with horror.
Originally appeared in EMILY DICKINSON AWARDS ANTHOLOGY, 2004
(Universities West Press)