Fresh Water

Trickling down,
fresh water reflects the sun
a thousand paper rainbows
as it drips into the bucket.
Strung up over the garden
during the rainy season,
it fills up,
tips over,
and flips into into upright position again.

Some years later
a new family bought the house,
got a gardener
put the bucket in the shed
never to be rained on again.
Staying forever young,
but dried up,
deserted.

It was never broken,
but does one even need
to be destroyed
to be forgotten
anymore?