Deva

Once I saw a porpoise roll within you

another time the velvet of a seal

grey within grey.

Once I saw the silver flash of fish

on the part of you broken by the weir

and once the shadow of a shoal

And once, that street of fishermen's houses 

led down to their boats, their nets

where they took turn to take what they needed to feed themselves.

And once, it was my job to rob you too

- to take a part of you and shake it in a glass flask

 and extract your poisons and unwanted debris.

I saw then how heavy rain disturbed you and made you thrash your banks,

how a farmer's slurry or chemical spill would deaden you 

and how a long hot summer could stop you in your tracks.