The rain has been occasional,
intermittently filling an old wastebasket
placed underneath a clogged gutter
thin ice on top glitters some mornings
If it was still summer, the rainwater
would be used to douse dry plants
instead I carry the dull pink rectangle
full to the brim away from the house
while thinking of rain barrels or
at the very least reusing a spackle
bucket with a wire handle which
would be both easier but heavier
Not only are the streets washed fresh
but the church parking lot where
the soccer boys and men gather
rain or shine or snow or warm wind
Someone placed a bright blue bucket for
extra soccer balls and coats and
I'm tempted to add a Frisbee, some
excess gloves no longer needed here
or homemade cookies, wrapped in
festive plastic, even baseball caps
or children's books just for fun
You wouldn't believe the crazy stuff
I've seen this week, the places I've
been, the things found in unused
rooms, thirty years moved around in
boxes and bags, emotional and then
not, an over sized Christmas stocking
with Santa sitting on a train waving,
DADDY written in black Sharpie, the
worn tag cut off, thrown away as tears
well up then subside, oh the holy night
will show up in its time but the most
important things are already here
even my creche just needs dusting
after four years of waiting on a shelf
with wise men and camels fallen over
angels mixed up with sheep and Mary,
Joseph, the shepherds, somewhere
nearby I rest after baking and decorating
using live greens and all week I
showed up to everything just
barely on time and no one complained