pensiveCold water,
rinsing the dirt
off of green leaves,
fresh from the garden,
once,
twice,
three times,
and I find
still a bit of sand at the bottom.
Oh life, I think,
as I swirl the dark green leaves in the bowl,
how many times
will I need to be rinsed
in your cold water
before I let go of the last of the dross,
before the liquid runs clear?
Sighing, I dry my hands
then smile at my silliness.
Sometimes, it is better
to pay attention to the work at hand
than worry about metaphysical consequence.
