In the middle of a forest,
a bucket full of water
sweats a drop of anguish
every time her carrier
leans her back and forth

just because the cobblestone road
conspires against her luck.
It slides rocks and deep cracks
underneath her carrier’s feet.

Meanwhile, the sky – blue with agony, cries
as it watches the bucket tremble
with each step her carrier gives.
It wants to flood her with its tears.
It wants to tell her,
“It’s okay, everything will be alright,
you are going to make it alive”

But the bucket, swinging from side to side
of it’s carriers weak hand, fears
to dry completely out of sanity
before ever reaching her life’s goal.

Yet who is to blame her, if her
carrier’s feet – poor on soles,
bleed their pain onto the cobblestones
who laugh their malice
through every single pore of its rough
and slippery stones.



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