Aug 272011
 

Stand again at the old well-lip
As one half-sleeping might
And drop a stone among those images
That lay hid in the night.
When still a boy at the water's edge
Cold with terror at the dark,
The light was like a fish's hide
That floated back to me.

And drop a stone among those images
That lay hid in the night.
What has escaped the breath
In hated words or curses, now rescind
And let an older beneficence begin;
Call that harshness in.
When driven to that edge of speech
The tongue half out of the head
Recall what purpose pleased you best
When time had not yet begun.
And drop a stone among those images
That lay hid in the night.

At gasping dawn a boy again
Swears all breaking light's a game
And climbs before the mounting sky
To catch a dreaming fish
While the water's high.
So sound out the plummet-depth
With some stray rock or cocked ear do it
Or hearth-stone out of pocket;
But drop a stone among those images
That lay hid in the night.

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