“river with a valley so shallow it is measured
in inches” says McKibben
 
and no longer           Ever           but shrinking,
this marsh-wealth in a buzz
 
of conversing, wing flaps and wind, ringed
by housing, drained by canals,
 
an expanse thick with mangroves, orchids,
birds erupting out of grasses—
 
“so flat that a broad sheet of water flows slowly
across it on the way to the sea”—
 
algae, floating lilies, water purified
and sent into
 
the dreamscape—            	Heaven’s
 
beneath us, what I look down into,
bubbling mud, permeable skin—
           	
Driving here, miles
 
across paved-over space
 
till what’s missing gathers—
jaw open in the sun,
 
wings explaining—
 
What can’t be seen is more
than all of this         Strokes
 
of green blades          swells of nothing—
we’re            	Ever
 
latched to each other, burning