Water: water everywhere

So much, so much we have it to spare

Give me your bottles your cups and

your jar’s…. pay for its travel

I’ll fill up your bath.

It arrives like a mist on the hills

seeps into our moss like a cushion underfoot

then drips from its ledges

on its roll to the sea

bringing some of the mountain at times

first its only grit, sand, dust

Next it is mud wood then rock

Then?

becomes a mild stream surrounded with round edged rocks

If you look really close you can still see some grit

The land now scared and needing a bridge

I don’t think so on second thoughts

much safer not to in the end when

The rains come again.