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Nina Violet
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Fill the Well Up
she told me a story, the girl on the swing
wing thrumming meadow, heat starts to ring
angles of light when the web starts to glow
and downward I fell, through my mind, down a well
look up to the moon I saw night in a cup
pour starlight down on me and fill the well up
the water upon me, the softest of sounds
I felt myself rising back up to ground
I reached out my fingers to feel for the sand
the smoothest of pebbles, grass, precious strands
my scratches were beaded a brilliant red
and bursting with living
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