What does Water think
as it falls hungering from the sky
to tickle tree skin, slip
among crackling leaves, nestle
against dark earth?
What does Water hope
as it runs longing for its own kind,
rushing towards silvery stream, tumbling
through mossy stones, frolicking
with finny fish and slippery frogs?
What does Water dream
as it recalls old stories
of rivers meandering, of tides flowing
into wide bays, of oceans slumbering
beneath bright moon?
What does Water feel
as it falls hungering from the sky
smacks hard roof, splashes
onto flat asphalt, lies puddled and
steaming under hot sun?
What does Water look like
when it cries?
—
Tammy Vitale is a writer and visual artist. She is writing a memoir in lyric essays about her late husband of 40 years, and changing her yard from grass to garden. In addition to her formal education (MA in Story and Social Change from Goddard College, and MFA in Writing from Lindenwood University), she is currently studying dreams and personal mythology at Atlantic University in Virginia Beach, VA.
