Dripping moons

Dripping moons

there's a tap outside dripping

to the sound of owls

every full moon

I listen and watch too

there's a pail underneath the

tap, holding the water from

escaping it's disgorgement

across the street there's a tree

measuring time's etching of

mountain's contour

when dripping exceeds and

flowing begins I stand up

cross the street and deliver

the water to the tree

there's no end to the dripping

there's no tap without pail

I'll keep the watch!

© 2014, JC