Charmain Leung’s NaPoWriMo Poem 3, rough ghazal form:
A Watered Garden
The paint crisps a slow crackling
at its edges; the lines let flow.
A dam broken over, the concrete
heaps on the bed, an overflow.
Weeds bowed heavy with rain
dropped weight flowing.
Swirling a teaspoon brews a thunder
in the watered dark that flows.
Gravel speckled in white blossom
turns a moss of green in flow.
A wet touch of metal encounters
the open veins sieving the flow.