The Well
(for Harry Garuba )
there is a bitter weal
well beyond tears
lodged like blood clots
in the heart
a weal
hardened
within the well
of eyes
itching to cry
but wet and dumb
as a pebble
in a throat
that swallows the guts
till the wracked body
and voice
crack
when a son sees
the father fall
drop
like stone in a well
sink
in a heap of mortal flesh
the old lion
unable to hear the cry
of the cub
slumps down
into his brave-white
fluffy mane
unable to paw away
the irritating fly
that is death
there is a bitter weal
well beyond tears
or a tremulous whimper
silently
pressed
against the pressed lips
as dumbbells cry
and father falls
like stone
to the bottom
of the dry
dark well
