Christening

Glass breaks into bubbles
and shards for someone’s sea-glass
jar. Champagne fingers stretch
down her side only to be swallowed
by the river without a taste.

Most days she’s cool to touch
but today she’s been bathing
in the sun, waiting for him
to take her away from the calm

of muddy shallows and steer her
into the rapids, bend her
over rocks until she feels
like she might break

but doesn’t care and pushes
herself further and deeper
into the current with him
until she has forgotten

where they came from
doesn’t care where they are
going and is calling on god
and Jesus. Not to save them

just to leave a message
that they may not be coming
back any time soon.


Tamie Gaudet lives in the Thousand Islands with her husband and three children. Her poems have appeared in print in Quills: A Canadian Poetry Magazine, Poetry Canada and online at Artistry of Life, Thieves Jargon, Zygote in my Coffee and Mannequin Envy. Her will work will also appear in an upcoming edition of Frigg.