Ode to a Squirter

Ode to a Squirter

As heaven sends its waters to green fields
And fallow lands across the globing dome,
Where plowmen grip their plows toward harvest home
And scattered seed becomes autumnal yields,

And so below anoints both the unjust
And just in equal measure with its show'r,
On cemetery headstone as on flow'r,
Anoint this brow again with every thrust

Of upraised hips, to splash these hands and face
That pray for supplication and repose,
And leave, with glist'ning chin and cheek and nose,
Wet evidence of mercy and of grace.