Night Water

Deep darkness settled over the garden path, so I turned back toward the shelter of the porch. Along the perimeter stood a heavy carved stone birdbath, its shallow rim catching the cool night air. I climbed the coarse limestone pedestal, planting my staff into the damp earth below for purchase. The basin held still, dark water mirroring a silver slice of the moon above. Resting the butt of my staff against the carved rim, I leaned forward and skimmed a floating dry pine needle from the surface with two fingers. The water rippled, cleared, and settled once more into absolute glass. The garden rests under a steady sky.