To catch water from a falling glass that has
tipped over the table top from a
careless little tug (one of many, it’s been edging) at the tablecloth
and watch as it somersaults in the air
giving up its contents in a hapless fashion
watching as the hand reaches to grab it
but it falls, it falls, it slips and it falls
and all that’s left is a wetness on the hand
(the drops clinging on but dripping still)
and the broken shards of glass
Don’t cry over spilt milk
much less water.
Friday, September 29, 2006
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