Caught and composed, motionless blue, behind
the dam, the river and the rain appear
reserved, relying on a passing wind
to lick them back to life, that warps and moves
their welded surfaces against the sheer
wall with flowing room on its otherside.
But wavelets splashing cannot turn the tide
of emptiness enforced by concrete. Shove
as it might, surface water’s only hope
is overflow, and that requires increasing
depth. Gradually, the billion rain drops
and bloated river combined, realizing
in their brooding blue depth the depth it takes,
rise toward the dam’s lip too much for flood gates.
The Desire of Water
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