The funeral of water

The trickle slowed to stop
And the skies held no hope.
The car and drive were
Sparkling clean,
The grass and flowers
Had drunk their fill to emerald green.
Their glasses had been filled
With only that which was chilled,
The lukewarm disposed of
Down the drain.
The bathroom facilities
No longer leaked,
And over the lands lay ponds
Of sludge and toxic pollutants
Once quenchers of our thirst.
Not able to manufacture
Nor synthesize a replacement
They lamented their wasteful ways

Debbie Gravett © 2016.10.05

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