Upon Arrival At Fort Comfort I.
(For Angela, enslaved, Jamestown, Virginia 1619)
I remember water fresh as tongued rain
during rainy season—
how its spears the skin clean
how it washes silt away
erases footprints and boot prints
carves runnels and makes new pathways.
Just a remnant of those herded onto ships months ago,
we have been divided, have been examined
and bargained for but not yet fed.
I anticipate my first taste of water—
fresh water cooling the drought
in my throat
captured rain or well-drawn
not sour from months in barrels
not fouled by the effluvium of bilge.