Penniless at the wishing well
--

Droplets sing their tempestuous song
of chaotic delight
as they fall in absolute pattern less
order
upon the surface of the pool
at the base of the fountain
like a thousand pairs of hands clapping
just out of rhythma

each carrying its unique identity
in its watery breath
their elegant rhapsody complete
yet no movement is like another
forever changing, realigning
endless,
of quivering voice...
History and the Game
Warn Them and They Still Keep On
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