if water were beings who
lived with hope, breathed with
lungs, walked with a pulse
as we do, then maybe when they were born
they were the golden dew – and then the Sun
raised them from the mist and into their youth – during
their teens they clashed, bringing on
the rain – lightning and thunder
an expression of their pain as they felt
pulled apart and changed –
as they grew up and older
they slowly iced over and became colder
then fell softly as snow
the last glimpse of beauty and of hope
glowing under lanterns and traffic lights
before they went – melting, fading into the
wintry streets, laid to rest beneath
wandering feet
_____
© Brianna – Tiny Fawns Writings
Poet's Corner 