I woke up this morning
And found myself to be
The rushing brook down the road
At the cul de sac
Flowing over icy rocks
Without speckled trout
Charging with the current —
Not this time of year.
White water foaming at the mouth
Of the river
Not far around the bend.
An elbow reaching
Into a hand
With fingers as long
As the sadly missed days
Of the Fruit Moon.
~~~
👽❤
~~~
*** So, you’re retaining water then, Sugar Tits? Lay off the salt…. ***
*** I would but my blood is already brine. I will always be a body of water. ***
