Girl At The Well – Poem.

I like to write; in that freeform manner where poems might be songs or just lilting prose. Sometimes I start and don’t finish for months, like this little piece about seasons, resources and trust.

I am a girl at the well.

You might be a thief.

Therefore, nothing is simple.

I go out from my homeland;

my quiet spaces, my peace

and you sneak in.

On returning, I want to tell you

that we cannot transact.

You’re not to take and I’m not to give.

But I withdraw, admitting a lack of conviction?

Examination saturates my eyesight.

I go back to drawing water.

Are you thirsty, sir?

Where do you come from?

Do you have far to go?

By the third glass, I think I have resolved it.

You can draw deep from my well,

in this respite before your long journey.

Let us part friends; and keep secrets for each other.

February/October 2012

What do you think?