It sure was sweet water
spilling out of the earth
shooting stars 
all over my face.

The locals told us
we would never hit water
as we watched the old douser
witching for the well.

They told us the Crider soil,
reddish-brown silt covered dark
red clay would prevent the drill
from breaking through layers of denseness.

I watched young naked bodies
dance through the fan of precious rain
shooting upwards and remembered when
they too spilled out of my body.