(no subject)

Drop by drop the water falls
Sliding down the arcs of leaves
Moving curve by curve
"Til it hangs at last precariously
Clutching, clutching an end (a beginning)

Mayhaps it'll be happier in the puddle
If it falls and lands and drowns
Joins the mass of overflowing fluid
Once individual droplets
But it clutches, clutches the tipping point

A little drop clinging and clinging
Until another comes to knock it away
But now it falls unworried
For the replacement will remember
As it will clutch, clutching...

One out of the mass, the crowd, which surges and surrounds
Drip drop Plip plop echoes through the night
Is that the only choice chosen not to be made?