Vessel (Charles Tomlinson)

I place water
in a glass pitcher
on the evening table
at the centre of the meal:
the stream outside
flashes back
late afternoon light:
water within the pitcher
rocks a little, prisoner
of glass and restive perhaps
to be what it once was
in full flow and not
this filled roundness,
now shaped and stilled.
But summon no Ondine
to embellish the thought,
pour out and drink
the caught coolness
that breathes here. Beyond the window,
in the high perfection
of a February night sky,
a winter moon has risen,
summoner of waters, filler of pitchers.
Below its slim sickle
travel the tones of the stream
that fed this still vessel
reflecting wine, fruit and bread.

(From The Hudson Review, Vol. LVII, No. 2, Summer 2004)