Water Hand Pump
Water Hand Pump
I wonder whence the pipe goes?
Underground Niagra, Mississippi or Caspian Sea?
Working the Up-Down Handle like Punching a PIN,
A Subterranean ATM of Cool Crystal Quench,
Sometimes the Handle Ignores Rapid Work,
Just as Licking a Stamp, I Have to Prime,
Give to Get, Down Goes Wet, Up Comes Sublime,
As If Sensient, What Goes Around, It Understands,
Physics Doesn't Play Games, Invest the Good,
Even Salt Water Brings Up the Sweet,
Not Machine Psychology but Leather Swelling,
Sealing the Gap Between Bucket & Sub-Dwelling.
Now Primed, Pumping Towards the Ground,
Creates Cavity 'Tween this World & Maybe Hell,
A Spurting Fountain Results from the Well.
If Only All Life Were Clear & Transparent,
Nature's Dignity Comes from Innocence,
In Figuring Things Out, I Stand More Erect,
Glimpsing, Enacting Cause & Effect.
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