When I Find the Ark

It's confused, hasn't movedin so long it forgetswhat ships do. Anxious ark,a little dumb.I start small and sing to itabout the animalsboarding in pairs — how fewwere spared. Itell it what death does. The arkpuffs out its cheeksand turns pity-me-red. It sobsmy feet wet. I saythree minutes underwater and allorgans fail. I askif it understands how quicklylimbs gettired. This is how I know Iwill never bea good mother: when the ark'scrying risesup to my mouth, I point outevery clawmark. I teach it to count.