Staring into the wishing well,

Her face suddenly formed in the ripples

Red love was not in the light

It had a strange blue hue

And my hands cupped the water

As if I had become a statue

Only to let the water splash on the rocks

What is there in the fire truck

The government is trying again

It is not a utility belt

She had only herself

Rising to the sky

There had lost nothing

But a few clouds.