Wary Wonderlust

The days drip away,
raining faster
past us.
Not a drizzle or a shower
but a torrent of great power.

Our histories, our mysteries
filling and spilling
o’er the water tower
of our hours.

Ever fleeing, ever gone.

Rain soaked faces
fill the common spaces.
Swept along the gutter
never to return.

Float away olden days.
The ever-pouring water stays.
Catch a palm of water gone,
it’s left before you’ve felt it.
Rippling over tender skin
leaving wrinkles of the when.