Submission

Glendo Reservoir, Wyoming

There is a spit of clay
Hiding under the waves
Of a man-made lake
In southern Wyoming.

It has been there
Since the Army Corps of Engineers
Dammed up the North Platte River
Flooding this valley with recreation.

In the hottest summers
This peninsula surfaces
As the farmers deplete the reservoir
For their thirsty crops and cows.

Summers past, it called me out to walk its neck and shoulders,
Even to its nose,
Soothing the bare, wave worn Wyoming mud
So long forgotten.

What did it grow before the deluge,
Before the waters closed over
Welcoming jet skis and outboard motors
To scream above?

Waters will return, and so will I,
This time with my husband
And my first born still in my womb,
Waiting for my waters to recede.