I dropped a tear in the bucket
for every name that slipped my tongue
for every face that skipped my mind
for every friend whom I failed a prayer to find
Bearing the rising reservoir,
I irrigated my garden
of regret, assuming that salt
rendered earth infertile, turned seeds to stone
so this grim gardener would need not atone
for weeds fertilized with lax fault.
I dropped a tear in the bucket
listened to the resounding chime
nodded world-weary head in time
to the oscillating din of high-low echoes,
glanced a rueful grin at my dearest neglected
and whispered a steady, gleaming gaze to
my frail limits…
and then – unexpected –
clear-eyed vision graced me
with knees-in-earth-fertile humility
