From About Fifty Feet Below You

Could you come here, sometime,
With a candle, or even a match,
To lead me out of this darkness?
Could you show me how to turn
Off the TV? I am falling, the child
Who discovered the well,
Antidepressants, like handholds,
Forgotten. I cannot climb back.
I'm thinking of drowning.
Why can't what I saw, in the
Moment I fell, the looming
Lush mountains, the clothes
Lines, a world set more or
Less free of The World and its
Heartaches, the realm you
Inhabited eons ago, remain
In my mind? Why does
This darkness? Won't you
Come, bearing a flame?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 38 times
Written on 2020-01-09 at 01:24

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