A Drop on Zinc

I walked from the parapet corner toward the low zinc watering can resting among the terrace plants. Beside its spout lay a single dry pine seed with a translucent wing. I stood still before it, letting several quiet moments pass. Then, I extended my silver arm and pushed the light seed across the weathered metal. A stray bead of clear water trembled on the rim. My finger tapped the droplet, splitting it into two tiny curved lenses that held the morning sky.