poetry

Water in the Well
by Ernesto Superal Yee

Depth befits
a long dark
look down-
ward where
the water is:
Primal mover, shaper
of things to come;
niched
in this nature’s shaft,
reached-
through the plunge
of the wooden bucket
to be drawn tightly outward;
the pressing weight
of clear water
emerging up-
ward and close to sight,
mirrors the arched
world of hovering clouds
and the leaning face
against the open sky.

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