You are still
a vessel of memories
for me you know.
This is what I miss the most -
filling your pot as mine
and dipping in now and then
to taste a morsel
I've placed you crudely
among others of your ilk -
my witnesses.
Another abandoned craft
in the back field,
home to spiders and rabbits
and an occasional snake
I pass you daily with my dogs,
master myself now,
and I wonder if you are still
water worthy
or well
I wonder too
if your knife was sharp
when you carved a place
to put me