In My Liquid Tourmaline

In this shimmering liquid tourmaline
A teal and gold-breasted kingfisher whistles in the green pines
As the lake’s cool breath whispers in my ear
She speaks of laughing trout gliding in her belly
Humans pouring acid in her veins
And her tree friends she has lost
I am wrapped in the scent of salt and sweetness
As the freezing rush of cold water billows about my hand
And the smooth trout wriggle across the lake