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
2 comments:
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
Done! So long as *you* bait the hook. . . . Or better: tie the fly. . .
Grow old along with me,
The best is yet to be,
The last of life
For which the first was made. . . .
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