Poem

Thirsty

The cool water drips
staccato
out of
the green
garden hose
onto
her tongue.

She swallows more air

than water, her throat
a gurgle
of guttural clucks
until I thrust my thumb
in the hose opening,
a sluice. My hand
opens the valve.
Flabbergasted, she grabs
my wrist and pulls. Water falls
on her face
creating small
creeks, rivulets, tear
streaks down her cheeks,
neck, collarbone and t-shirt.

All “I’s” flushed,
I twist the spigot off. She
laughs; thirst slaked.