,&.
he looked down
down into the depths
of his poetry well
but could see nothing
but still hopefully
he lowered his bucket
it disappeared
into inky darkness
furthest recesses
before a plash
could be heard
when later
he wound it up
he was saddened
only to find
a few bent commas
and a cracked full stop
but then heartened
underneath
in the grimy silt
there lay glittering
a pure shining
burnished gold
ampersand!
,&.
pmcmanus
q365
for Peter Ciccariello
|