i m a young cowboy and know i ve done wrong my father sang as i emerged from the river she likes wearing men s clothes let her wear them said my mother tying his denim shirt around my neck under the surface of the water rocks glimmered like small hearts here s the mountain where we stood in order of height stars flashing across our faces what my father could not give my mother she gave herself i wanted to be like that like the lawnmower commanding respect a steady echo instead i was more like the grass in love with being severed and later with finding those parts of myself that had been buried thin blades only the fresh spring rain had the power to recover