Words falling like leaves
Water
The clear water
Just a photograph
The image projected
Unlike the puddle
I find myself seeing
Instead of the pool
Pristine and filtered
Filled with chlorine
Frogs are swimming
Chameleons are dancing
About and within the waters.
The rain falls
It is pure and fresh
No acrid smell
Nor yellowish tint
There is not a taste
Unlike bottled sweet spring
Water can be so different
Yet, still truly the H2O
acqua vitae et noce taciturnum.
The throwing about of words...
The clear water
Just a photograph
The image projected
Unlike the puddle
I find myself seeing
Instead of the pool
Pristine and filtered
Filled with chlorine
Frogs are swimming
Chameleons are dancing
About and within the waters.
The rain falls
It is pure and fresh
No acrid smell
Nor yellowish tint
There is not a taste
Unlike bottled sweet spring
Water can be so different
Yet, still truly the H2O
acqua vitae et noce taciturnum.
The throwing about of words...
