You Remind Me Of Someone

I love the way you kneel
in your canoe, Ray
you're so manly in your
short short shorts
those thighs and your
red nose, Ray -
if I didn't know better
I'd say it was gin
but I know you're out
every day, Ray
collecting hazelnuts
or waterlily seeds
to pound to flour on a rock.
When I watch you, Ray
I think I could wrap
parcels of dough in river dock
tie them with a nettle's
grassy string, cook them
in embers. Ray, you're so
masculine make me believe
I'd learn which sort of fire
is best for cooking eggs
when I've chipped
a tiny shell chimney.
Ray, when you wilt nettles
over your flames
I go limp.