This is not as classic and tradified a poem as the other entries into this category were, and far less well known. It is, for its sheer richness of sound and imagery, one of my favourite poems, however, and so I thought I’d share it with you here.

The Well
Jay MacPherson

A winter hanging over the dark well,
My back turned to the sky,
To see if in that blackness something stirs
Or glints, or winks an eye:

Or, from the bottom looking up, I see
Sky’s white, my pupil head –
Lying with all that’s lost, with all that shines
My winter with the dead:

A well of truth, of images, of words.
Low where Orion lies
I watch the solstice pit become a stair,
The constellations rise.






2 responses to “TDLaSM V”

  1. john

    It’s a beautiful poem.
    On a cold winters night the stars are so wonderful and so inspiring.
    It makes you feel so small, but at the same time apart of something so much bigger…
    A great poem thanks for the wonder:P

  2. Sib

    Thank you John! I am especially fond of the last lines, the change from nothing to something – and yes, its all about relative size and being small and part of everything else at the same time.

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