Owen Bullock
The Water Carrier
Pixies and goblins harmonised in the woods. I had to reach the magical well, when ours ran dry in summer and froze in winter. Get that bung out, see the stream gush like a solid object. It was a trick stuffing it back in, I got drenched.
It didn’t matter how heavy the 20 litre containers were to carry back home, I had the land in my hands, the hillside, the underground chambers. I carried the water, for a few hours each year, a god.
clouds fast-flying
it’s supposed to rain
we’re waiting
Gradually, the woods shrank as the mine grew. But the cuckoo still visited, and the gullies of leaves held secrets (the ones I told them).
the metal tree
in the courtyard could
sprout this morning
About the writer:
Owen Bullock has published three collections of poetry, five books of haiku and a novella; the most recent being Summer Haiku (2019), and Work & Play (2017). He teaches Creative Writing at the University of Canberra.
Image: Cherub Rock by Cassandra Lynn Miller. Oil on unspecified medium. No size specified. 2020. By free license.
