The well burned in my dreams
Fire erupting from its depths
The surrounding ponds gurgled in joy
Squealing and screaming with anticipation

Like Moses’ bush
The stones remain cool under fire.
I walked past the ponds, which celebrated
Their shrieks increasing

Found the door to enter the well
Lowering myself in the bucket
Easing myself down
The pulley sticking

Now past the reach of the firelight
I feel the crying walls with my fingers
Until I reach a hole
A tunnel that asks me to crawl through

Collapsing my shoulders
I wriggle my way through to the end
Swallowing the dust and roots
Until I reach the door.

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