Before the Bridges Fell #17 : By Our Well by David L O’Nan – poetry

first published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal

original photo from Unsplash. Altered

By Our Well

To have met you in the melting,
Another Summer melting.
On days you can look up and see –
What could be God in each of those clouds.

I knew you’d wander astray
Into the arms of Autumn and all of your strangers
Promising false love and to lead you to infestations.

By our well we used to whisper out our fear
The alcohol and the demons that your father brewed.
Your tears to the glass.
Only I could see you.
And that is the darkest fear that you’ll have to hide.

To be blessed to have found your soul,
And be the one who loved you the best.
By our well we wait for your sadness to go away.

The loss of your mother.
To dead words and little needle seahorses –
that she injected into her blood, for her body to wash away.
Gripped in the claws.  January funeral.

Mazes of months pass through your mind.
Hearing echoes through buzzing cicadas.
She still wants a release. She still is in that jail of clouds.
And you want to hide in her sand castles.
Holding your hand out for her skin to skin comfort.
By our well we wait for the skies to become quiet.

I seemed to catch you daydreaming.
The want and need doesn’t match.
He is away and harvesting in suitors.
With your faithful ring on your finger and his 
Sitting by his sweating glass.
The wedding songs play in your ear.
As we both stare at the crippled blurring stars.
With a romantic moon just asking for attentive eyes.
By our well we wait for paths to lose the chains.

And so I wave goodbye to my heart.
As she walks away to follow a dead leaf.
Fading to the waters it blows in.
The emptiness and the dark outside room.

I feel the coldness of this silent cave.
What could I have been, 
what could I have done?
I was only an infant in this adult world.
I wanted love and less maddening reflections.
In the rippled well I wait by.

The rain brushes the curves of the water.
And I listen for you in the downpour.
In the snow, in the cloth of Winter.
Filled up in the illness trying to detach from our heartbeat.
By the well I sleep by and wait to be lifted.


Before the Bridges Fell #16: In 1961…In 1961 by David L O’Nan – poetry

Before the Bridges Fell #15 : A Pond Full of Stars by David L O’Nan – poetry

Before the Bridges Fell #12: Radio Ghosts by David L O’Nan – Poetry 

Before the Bridges Fell #9 by David L O’Nan : Living in This Toxic Coalmine – poetry first on Icefloe Press


Before the Bridges Fell #16: In 1961…In 1961 by David L O’Nan – poetry

Before the Bridges Fell #15 : A Pond Full of Stars by David L O’Nan – poetry

Before the Bridges Fell #12: Radio Ghosts by David L O’Nan – Poetry 

Before the Bridges Fell #9 by David L O’Nan : Living in This Toxic Coalmine – poetry first on Icefloe Press

Interview with EIC David L O’Nan with Anastasia Abboud on Grains of Sand : About how I write, my weird thoughts and a few of my revised Cohen Avalanches in Poetry Poems.

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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