Words Growing on Trees

In observance of summer drought

the emerald trees look to me

as if I have a silver pail with an

endless bottom

             the source of answering thirst

Perhaps the silver pail

has been buried at the bottom

of the river

filled with weighted buttons

           life answers

We’re both thirsty

and have no answers

Only a question of how

a tree can birth a poem

and how a poet

never stops thirsting

Pull the buttons of

branches of

time well spent

never reach the bottom

             of words