This old well has given so much
The bucket still sits there rusty no good
Like a bed ridden man to a youthful woman of power
The well is her, the bucket is him
A century later
Thirst is still being quenched
deep under the ficus unkempt pine
dirty eucalypts
Mostly an exotic mess
Just enough to offer shade from the scalding sun
Locals still draw fresh from it
Clear, life giving
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