No Mountain Streams For Me

I DUG MY WELL

I dug my well
In soft earth
Open meadow,
Handful by handful
Dirt became
Mud and clay
And rock
But still I dug
Until the water
Flowed freely
Deep under ground
My water, my well
Ringed with rocks
My hands pried
Loose from
Mud and clay
There I drink
Bucket so full
My rope frays
As over and over
I drop them down
Deep into my well
Where I drink
Until the tears
Flow freely

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