Above the Pump

Above the Pump

My universe for long childhood moments;

A high square-foot of red brick

Atop the wall,

Above the green pump,

Miraculous provider of clear water in

Hard-earned gushings from the depths.

An awkward stepping to my lofty perch,

But solidly constructed,

As seemed life at that time.

I remember racing my cousin

Along crusted crane-jibs,

Peering into quarry depths on quiet Sundays;

The winner, first to touch the tip,

The loser, first to miss his step.

Foolishly glorious.

Gloriously foolish.

Nowadays,

I cannot look down a stairwell;

Yesterday’s brave heights

Belong to a stranger.

I sometimes remember him...

FIL  03/11/09