Tucked just beside old Route 66
and across the way from Lincoln’s court house
a long handled pump sits atop a well
a sesquicentennial marvel

Honest Abe put his hands
on that self same handle you can
I can
pump it too
just like he did
150 years ago or so

Riding the circuit
palavering in the court house
Abe would work up quite a thirst
Like the others
he’d cross the road
and pump up some clear cold water
Anything ever taste the better?

Our wind mill
whirled away
summer day, winter
the pump jack worked
lifting water
sending it through the pipe
to the big horse tank

Faithfully, three generations
cold clear water pulsed on out
filling buckets and that tank
A hundred forty head o cattle
stood and slurped
giant sucking sounds
The pigs, the sheep, the chickens
all drew from our good well

A summer day
haying field
hot, dusty, sweatin’ in the sun,
we’d pause and drink
that cold, clear water
So good going down
pleasuring our dry throat
We’d splash it on our arms
toss it on our faces
wet our hat,
Then back to work

Small and tall
young and old
we all went to the well

Sunday morning
the preacher spoke
talked about a woman
and a special man
Gathered at the well
he offered living water
a kind that never fails
Being smart, she took it
and Him
then brought her friends and family

Two thousand years and counting
going to the well
just like her we’re needy
reminded, many ways
we live and thrive on water
and living water too….

Lin, Lincoln Illinois, Abe’s well…3/20/11