
Simple
by steven baliko
Don't you believe that water is wet,
wet in every season, every certain circumstance.
Not only wet on dismal, dreary days
but wet when the pond has been
freed from stoic ice and insects
buzz in the blazing sky. Wet, trickling
down alpine slopes and the knoll
just beyond our house-wet for you
to taste, to touch. Wetness rains
from blistering thunder clouds-invading
every inch...whether you believe
or not. Wet depth awaits beneath toe-
tested waters and every day is summer
wanting to be cooled deep, deep uncharted
ripples soothing sheen, deep blue-green.
Play and laugh and sing
wet lips from the spring,
tickle and gallop and wink
water just is...take a drink.
Giggles and gurgles, sighs and wind swept skies
press upon the glass,
whispering...
"believe."