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hellopoet
Poems
Apr 2015
a filling cup overflows
'
The well has not gone dry,
less frequented maybe
by both the drawers and
the occasional passers by.
The stones are loose;
between them, mortar dissolves-
by clement or contrary
weather on seasonal cue.
The vessel is parched
and longs for its lover
by pulley once lowered
its rope frayed with disuse.
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