Pumping Water At The Old Well.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

since there is no electricity
you pump water from the well,

it is still dark, and the chickens are still on the trees,
you sweat it out so you can have water in this village

memories keep flashing scene by scene
when you were once a young boy doing errands for mama

when you were ordered to take the morning bath
but you simply ignored it and climbed instead the balimbing tree

the branch gave way and there you fell
mama was hysterical as you lost consciousness

your memory stopped right there and then
you were always a disobedient boy and now a man

it seems that there is still no difference to speak of
and you remember someone wise enough to say that the child has always been the father of man

you pump more water and now you know what this really means.