Poems by Kate Stannard

Close to Satsop River

by Kate Stannard

From Canary Spring 2023

Kate lives on the traditional land of the Coast Salish people past and present in the Duwamish-Green Watershed, five minutes from the shores of Puget Sound in West Seattle.

Downstream from Schaefer bridge,
on a stretch of
mud and rocks,
I find you
alone,
lying parallel to the creek.

By the looks of it, death came
too soon.
You held on with each tug from the river,
when the water and wind,
the lungs of the earth,
came for you.

Unable to help,
I sit on your body, a long rough
pew of wood skin
and close my eyes.
We take in the spring sun,
together.

Looking like tributaries,
an unexpected flood tore at your young roots,
unearthing you.
It shortened your top to a nub,
and broke two of your branches.

In a few months, salmon
will swim against this current,
you a witness,
your new body forming a deep pool
for them to rest,
a pause for the long journey.