Water gathering
most days I wait
through blue and sun
till dusk
or even later
and the rose has faded
to lavender, to gray
some days, the sleet
has started
and the leaves underfoot
are slick with ice
somehow I'm never sorry
and never learn
one night I waited
till the stars were out
dropped the bucket into
sound, only felt the weight
of it filling
and the night full of stars
and the river full of stars
and the bucket full of stars
come morning, the coffee
is also full of stars
1 comment:
The angel reminds me of fred from Or's comment that the Catholic church was woman-centered, in his estimation, because of the worship of Mary.
Maybe we need to discuss the concept of the "sop."
What was it that the Roman soldier brought to Jesus' lips when he complained of thirst?
hannah
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