The Water Bearer

Jim passed away quietly one night in his sleep shortly after telling me his story, relieved of its burden.

The pond, however, is still here.

For the past week, I have awakened in the middle of the night, not sure of where I am, snapped my eyes open onto a vast, black, pin-pricked sky circling above me.

Beside me, like a lover, the pond lapped at its banks, curled around me, dampening my skin.

My wife has begun to wonder why my pajamas are wet every morning.

I haven’t told her.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)