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Morning Water

Updated on April 9, 2012
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Every morning she awoke

in the darkness before dawn.

She threw on her pink dress,

rumpled from the day before.

Gathered up her matching bonnet,

and stained white apron.

Then took up the old water jug

and whispered out the back door.


The sun barely peeked over the hillside

as she entered the town’s stone square.

Her feet found the steps

as her eyes searched the streets.

Down and down she went,

until the jug bumped the trough

and she blinked at her reflection

in the rippling water.


Brown hair tried to escape

the ill-bound bonnet.

She never bothered to tie it tight

this early in the morning.

She leaned in and raised her jug

placing it under the spout

letting the water splash

into and out of her container.

The cool liquid felt lovely

on her heated skin.

Summer already poised to vanquish

the lingering Spring.


The sky ever lightening,

her feet aimed her toward home.

A soft noise brought her eyes

up to the young man

leaning on the low wall.

Blushing, head demurely low

she sashayed over to the grey stones

that separated boy from girl.


Whispered words were exchanged;

blushes and stammers too.

But, like every morning,

time ran against them.

And work and family

soon called them away.

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    • Capedium profile image

      Capedium 5 years ago from Texas.

      Amazing hub......... Amazing

    • Casey Cooper profile image
      Author

      Casey Cooper 5 years ago from Collinsville, Illinois

      Thank you so much!

    • clairemy profile image

      Claire 5 years ago

      Lovely poem!

      Voted up.

    • Casey Cooper profile image
      Author

      Casey Cooper 5 years ago from Collinsville, Illinois

      Thank you so much!

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