I was leaving, this
morning, and walking down bank street,
When 'cross my sad path came a woman who was smoking.
She exhaled one last puff and threw it to the concrete,
Down I looked, crystal puddle, polluted, Dan choking.
She had thrown her cruel
poison into water most pure,
Rained down from the heavens, hoarded by sweet happenstance.
I looked up, eyes tearing, sadden'd by this, to be sure,
I was baffled and shattered by her uncaring glance.