Water cleanses
washes away sins
but not dark water that rises
fills a home, contaminates.
It must be stripped inside and out
studs bared, bleached ribs
to dry in the sun.
Downriver last July
we floated dangling feet
in cooling water,
baptismal grace delivered,
anointed with suntan oil and water
from a paddle's splash.
Inside a home
a father's anger floods.
The hands that tossed a football
to an eager son
soak ceilings floors and walls with pain.
The bones of this house
cannot be peeled and cleansed.
