On a crisp October morning
pondering
For Once, then something,
and walking up to the
Well
knowing-this space of Sunday-
light like water
can be contained
in a soul cup.
A leaf
Bob's on top, floats,
ripples rile his rite to disillusionment to-
day,
the way
some seek these shimmering somethings-
Although, as the pessimist already knows
the echoes
signal emptiness,
or
depth
perception.
When he peers down
beyond superficial self-reflection
he alone wonders
why water doesn't wait
for focus
or stand as straight as a
Wall.
On Frost,
with the-
well,
frozen over,
whispering whiteness wonders
when it will all become clear again,
For once,
then nothing
but wishes taken for granite
reliable as a wall.
This poem was inspired by and in conversation with the poem by Robert Frost titled, For Once then something.
Image credit By Syed Usman Ali (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
