watering selected recollections
a child on tiptoes
an empty pail by her side
neck bending backwards
one hand reaching for a butterfly
the other clenching a piece of sky
it’s the things you recall
that easily survive below the surface
says the voice soundlessly
the one growing restless from time to time
secretly reliant on its counterpart
carrying the pail of water
from the well at the top of the hill
the child could never be more real
july two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
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