W a T E R
Water,
word that runs, and
from our scarce memory
slips
When we do not need ... It's
Agglutinator current,
who bathes us with joy ...
A bless when so softly marks us,
And when it passes
is always brand new
although being quite equal,
it's never the same
Water... !
Copyright © Alkas Poetry | Year Posted 2019
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