Weak I can still go
to the river.
Weak I can still let
myself
Go
where the river flows.
This is the freedom I needed—
to return
this adventure to well-worn waters.
Skinvessel I am pulled
together
as but one temporary
wetness,tightly.
This is to witness, this
window
on the other side of the soul’s telling:
old water and new light
flecting
off the fleeting, only waves now
under the Weeks Bridge.
Aidan Fitzsimons ’25 (aidan_fitzsimons@college.harvard.edu) writes Arts for the Independent.