The Rivulet

 

Rivulet

 

The thunderstorm donates its wares

On highly indiscriminate grounds

Till finally in the slight depression

Where the reeling hills converge

The rivulet begins

 

Then quickly vanishes. And yet

If I were thirsty I'd wait there

As whispering clouds discretely gather

Circulate and merge before

Dispensing life.

 

I’m always thirsty.

And always waiting.

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