in the Catskills again

my wife’s bare footprints on these rocks after she’s been swimming where the river has dug a small pool by the road outside Bearsville it looks like rain    no    it’s raining    should I follow these delicate marks to find her no    she’s just ten feet away    and she turns back    green bathing suit    thin legs    orange and black towel    it stops raining    her footprints going away have evaporated but of course she makes new ones heading toward me    there are certain moments you stay in even as they’re gone    like wet prints on rock or the way you cannot forget your dead friends