Baptism

The old man bent and balding 
is lowered into the water. 
At that small moment of burial 
he remembers his mother, thinks 
of that time before memory when, 
laboring him out of her saline womb, 
she held him new against the world. 
Now as he rises, rills steaming 
from his gray head and beard, 
he turns to the baptizer and embraces 
him fiercely. All the darkness between 
remains buried in the font. Later 
it will flow through drains, pipes, and culverts 
into the great ocean where salt washes 
all things new.