Living Water

Living Water

With faith for what he cannot see, 

he wedges sideways in behind

the holly bush, the sleeping seeds

already sprouted in his mind:

so thick, so green. The rusty knob

that holds the life-source squeaks, the sun-

dried rubber throat beginning to gulp

on future flower beds and lawns

so fresh they’ll turn the neighbors green

with jealousy. A whisper turns

into a choke, a hiss, and then

the air is sprinkling diamonds on

their heads, while with a kindred shout

the children shuttle back and forth 

beneath this generosity, their out-

stretched fingers reaching, grasping for 

the flashy fragments of a wealth

that slips between their thirsty hands.