Issue 16 | Winter 2015

An Anhui Well

Once a boy slipped
down a well in far
Anhui. He surfaced deep
in Mongolia, whispering
through his fever
of the vast, star-clotted sky

he swam beneath.
Once I called down
into that dark glitter—
then cursed, then bargained,
then begged—until
someone else called back.

Filed under: Poetry