A Fountain in Jerusalem
Silver fruit
Of a hillside spring
Gathered from mossy cachements
By this clay pipe
Fall free
For seconds only.
Water drops,
More than a trickle,
Sweet and cold,
Chatter
Breeze-blown into
A stone bowl.
Stone bowl,
Perhaps Roman,
Worn smooth by
Countless elbows
Resting
In the day's heat,
Amber pool,
Where children splash
And some say
Jesus
Bathed his feet,
Is full again.
Silver fruit
Of a hillside spring
Gathered from mossy cachements
By this clay pipe
Fall free
For seconds only.
Water drops,
More than a trickle,
Sweet and cold,
Chatter
Breeze-blown into
A stone bowl.
Stone bowl,
Perhaps Roman,
Worn smooth by
Countless elbows
Resting
In the day's heat,
Amber pool,
Where children splash
And some say
Jesus
Bathed his feet,
Is full again.