in a makeshift hermitage.
Two aloes every Sunday
in the eastward kitchen window
receive their pints
rain or shine.
The weeks shrink shorter.
Momentum builds.
Kinetic.
Today the water filters through
overflows from underneath
covering the sill
with excess undesired
like proposals scoffed
by ears too proud.
A towel's spread to soak it up
so the paint won't swell and chip.
The landlord will keep the deposit
regardless of this effort.
Their roots will suck the remainder
through capillary action.
Each molecule contributes.
Shoots will sprout their flowers.
Where nature's fooled
both art and science
is the inconsistent thirst.
What's measured and poured
and savored for months
is too much today
in tandem.
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