some believe that water knows
all things washed by rain,
and holds as treasure
jetsam tossed
into its cold depths
which sediments upon the bottom
of rivers, lakes or the sea.
but some memories are best left
diluted or lost to time,
like a careless word
overheard
by a loved one
who, reduced to tears,
leaves heartbroken.
i don’t know if water holds
the key to our collective
past, shimmering
beneath
its rippled surface
refracted, pure, and just
out of reach —
but drowned by fate, hope
for its absolution.
