Water Speaks


Clear when I fell

from my mother cloud,

I flow from PVC pipe

amber as sun tea

murky with suds

honor faucet and drain

burble greetings to crews

at the city water works

pause as a puddle and run

to a nameless creek feeding a lake,

trickle, cascade, drip

from eave or icicle,

open my wide mouth at the coast,

become glacier, ocean,

estuary feeding fingerlings,

a great blue heron,

yet to be neither land nor sea.


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