The Well House

by Sarah E. White

In 1947 the men of my family worked in the rolling hills of Kentucky
On the small farm that we called home
Men as honed from the land as the stone blocks that they labored
As true as the mortar they mixed for their strong standing structure
Covering this hole in the earth with its life-giving water
The well house was finally complete
Now in 2011
A little piece of my history has vanished from the land
It has succumb to the minutes of time and machines of the present
Now just crumbles of rubble lay on a bare empty slab
Turned back to dust to blow over the land
Lonely is the sound as it drifts on the wind calling out to my memory
My history lost for another history’s making
Something so insignificant to others stands as a building block of my childhood
Leaves me teary eyed and remembering a time of stability
Another piece of childhood gone
Yet the well house stands strong in my memory in the perfect home of childhood
An anchor point holding firm in my thoughts
A landmark that will never be lost
The backbone of my back yard little world
An off limits place for hide and go seek
Oh how it tempted us with all of its mystery
With its perfectly dark inside
Something soothing about the scent from within
The ancient cobwebs and dust of a time gone by
It all seemed all so familiar
For the well house still stands with its life giving water
The well house stands on in my mind