When the day’s rain has ended
and the sky wears it dark as a stain
go and see what you have collected: water
filling up the flower boxes, overflowing the teacups
you left on the porch.
Go and see how still it has become
in your unintentional catching,
how it seems to sleep.
How the cold night coming hushes it further, brushes
away its shivering with icy fingers
until the water seems encased in glass,