The puddle
It's always been there
Looking back at me
Whenever I look down
Mocking my feeble attempts
At containing it
Restraining it
Preventing it
When I fill it in
It washes out
When I pave it over
It sinks lower
And forms again
And again
I'm slowly losing patience
And I'm getting creative
I'm putting down stakes
Marking the area
Then I'll dig it out
It won't know what to do
If I move it by the cubic
Stupid puddle
It can't beat me
Now it's gone
The truck took it away
One year ago today
A block of soil, pavement and stone
10 yards square
2 yards thick
They said it was the most interesting move
They've ever done
Now when it rains
The area is smooth
There isn't a ripple
Let alone a puddle
To be seen
Sometimes I walk out there
And look around after the rain
Mostly satisfied
But a very small part of me
Misses my lost puddle
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