Magpie # 27

Photo by Willow

The river is calm; not a ripple to be seen.
The flag hangs heavy
From yonder pole.
In the far distance
The rumble of
Water filling
His watering can.
There’s a storm abrewin’.
Gunmetal gray
Sieve drizzles
Drops
To pock the placid surface.
Drip, drip, drip
Drip. Drip, drip, drip, drip
On the metal roof;
Drop, drop, drop
To the stone landing below.
His garden watered,
The river restored;
The tap is closed.
All is plumb.