Heather June Gibbons Lives of the Prophets

To see the bottom
of the well and say
hello and hear

only echo. To wonder
and to know.
To hear an echo

and know what is
before it comes.
To see the bottom.

Not to wonder, to know
shadows limp across
the wall, smells

drip off the ends
of their arms. Hello, well.
Hello.


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