By Shirley Segev
© Shirley Segev
Permission is given hereby to all who want to use these poems personally for their enjoyment and/or share them freely with others: verbally, in writing, online, or otherwise, by copying them without making any changes, and as long as they do not receive any payment in return.
Contact: shirley.segev@sympatico.ca
This well
she used to dread
is back,
less vivid now,
its ropes less thick,
its walls recede,
the cavernous
dark dungeon
still underneath
she dares not look down
while slowly climbing up
hoping to get out
night after night
again.
As a rule, you said,
don't extend your reach too
much.
I'll be disappointed,
you'll feel silly,
then you handed us the balls,
we took them, heads down,
somewhat upset,
following your steps,
secretly admitting
that we came for the rules
to outwit outrageously
and you guessed,
I think I'll go for it anyway,
just a test.
Sitting on this soft, warm sand by
the sea,
breathing the wet droplets of
fresh air,
touching the slow moving waves
and gray muted rocks from afar,
invisibly,
the wind flowing through me.
—
Here
I am home.