Scene of the tragic death
of the lovelorn Indian girl
whose broken heart is
said to have given the
lake its sorrowful name,
“Creve Coeur.”

Was her talcum heart
dissolved in the sea,
now the bones of the gulls
who dined on the gills
who dined on the weeds?

The ice fell, tier
after tier, tear
upon tear, tearing
away at the air
resting on edges
of minute cliffs.

The fish saw her fall,
both in love
and into the mouth
of Indian summer,
and, eventually, away.

Her body passed
under the bridge,
and, for a moment,
the rain stopped

and then
it began to rain.


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