With a missing text

All night they washed their bodies in the cool, slow-moving

Water of the green river.  By moonlight we saw them washing each other,

Embracing.  A red star presided in the heavens. The pines were speaking

Among themselves.  When was I there?

Am I your spokesman?  How difficult!  These bathers fill

My heart.  These bathers in moonlight.  In water waist-high, laughter.  And

Then they are gone, great silence following them.  Listen, if you find those

Bathers give them one of these words: (here the text has been lost)

                                    -- published in Poetry magazine, August 1966