Frederick Kesner Poems
A Cup Runneth Over
The well has not gone dry,
less frequented maybe
by both the drawers and
the occasional passersby.
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.
Fare Thee Well
I still can't look at your photograph
without choking up or getting ill
could I ever seriously consider
giving up my affections for you
why have you gone abruptly ahead?
gazing upon your visage on print
all knotted up and confused still
my emotions, rambling wild river