Watering Can 

The green watering can rests 

against the red shed door, 

the plastic shell warmed from June’s sun

a grey spider runs up the side. 

The banana yellow Slip and Slide 

stripes the lawn dead while the snake-of-a-hose 

waits to come alive with rushing water.

Mom fills up the watering can, full,

for me to rain onto the tulips or 

the Virgin Mary statue, guarding our backyard.