Everything glistens, reflections shimmer
flicker and dance, water trickles and slides
dribbles under, over and around; fast,
slow, aimless and meandering; water
of life, pooling, gurgling, drowning, rotting;
life and death. Drop by drop descending, cold
at this time of year, superfluous to
hibernating plant life, seeking its way
down into layers of soil sucked dry by
generations of ancient laurel roots.
Filling the copper bowl, celebration
flagon on shiny-wet garden table,
this water of life is a birthday toast.