The Well at
Castle Forchtenstein, 1986
Night flows over a circle of stone
from above,
darkness curving between the stars,
the grip of day grown
weak. A flake of snow floats
down past granite walls
to drop upon a pool unseen...
you must be patient.
The shaft is hollow.
There is no sound.
Perhaps there is no bottom,
no pool,
no granite,
no cluster of stars.
How can day or night exist
while a vacant well
pauses
in the autumn?
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