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More poems by Andrew HudginsAndrew Hudgins | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (6) | Books by Andrew HudginsBooks by Andrew Hudgins

In The Well

Andrew Hudgins

My father cinched the rope,
a noose around my waist,
and lowered me into
the darkness. I could taste

my fear. It tasted first
of dark, then earth, then rot.
I swung and struck my head
and at that moment got

another then: then blood,
which spiked my mouth with iron.
Hand over hand, my father
dropped me from then to then:

then water. Then wet fur,
which I hugged to my chest.
I shouted. Daddy hauled
the wet rope. I gagged, and pressed

my neighbor's missing dog
against me. I held its death
and rose up to my father.
Then light. Then hands. Then breath.

Added: 1 Apr 2002 | Last Read: 23 Jan 2018 8:50 PM | Viewed: 6024 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4303/ | Viewed on 23 January 2018.
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