The Waterwheel

Maybe a love poem, who can say for sure?

                The Waterwheel

           If I were a waterwheel
         and you were the water,
     I could carry you way up high
         in my moss covered bins.

              I would spill you out
   onto the small raised aqueducts
      and you, or some part of you,
            would be on your way
         as far as the fall of gravity
                  could carry you.

             You push me gently
             below the waterline,
             unseen but constant
                    and I lift you.

           We'll carry on that way,
               pushing and lifting,
               lifting and pushing,
         as long as the water flows.

          Without water running by
             what is a waterwheel,
           but stillness and sadness,
                like a river damned.

    Were it not for one and the other
      there would be no water raised
                  nor wheel turned.

This is another waterwheel in town. I think there are 16 of them. That’s a lot of love.