Mariel Fechik

From the Water

There is a downpouring—

the kind of rain that does little to cleanse and more
to flood      to choke      to block

leaving everything a filled barrel,
coins at the bottom and a fish for you
to shoot,

when you’re feeling cold-blooded enough.

You forget how not to beach yourself
when these wet seasons roll in,

standing mouth open to the water,
collecting,

ready to expel
when everything dries up.