Water

Water fell from the hill
In a stony furrow,
Jumping from grey lip
Into grey lap:
Its cool contralto voice
Clear as a brand–new conscience,
Calling imperatively
‘Drink!’

But my hands
Could never contain
Water to drink.
You gave me yours —
Cupped, brimming, ample,
And I drank
As I shall never drink again.


© The Estate of Dorothy Cowlin 1991–2021. All rights reserved.

This poem is known to have appeared in the following publications:

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