it's a dry well.
the bucket hits the bottom
and sends
up a thud.
no water at the bottom
of this
bricked
encasement.
the stream is done.
the spring
expired.
no love here. no affection.
no desire.
just dirt and dust,
the dry bones of others
who went
down
for a drink and couldn't
make it back up.
Sunday, October 27, 2019
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