Please remember,
In these tight moments,
Alone,
In the steady drip of rainwater off eaves
into pools already overflowing
with sky-water long overdue,
What it is to long
for -
When all seems clipped neatly in place,
edges lining up,
that today might be the paperwork,
shuffled and dealt with,
and yesterday the rows of washed
cups,
dried and clean, collecting dust,
but that tomorrow will always be
that one drop
one drip away
from the puddle,
or the leaf,
or the nose of an upturned face -
Remember:
longing wrings the oxygen
right out,
Even though crossed-out sentiments
make it easy to deny
ever having a need.
Your cups may be clean,
and your paperwork sorted,
and still the drop
hangs.
