by Heather June Gibbons
To see the bottom
of the well and say
hello and hear
only echo. To wonder
and to know.
To hear an echo
and know what is
before it comes.
To see the bottom.
Not to wonder, to know
shadows limp across
the wall, smells
drip off the ends
of their arms. Hello, well.
Hello.
From:
The Laurel Review
Copyright ©:
2017, Heather June Gibbons
Last updated May 12, 2019