Loss
© Laura Craig Mason 2002

Throwing pennies in a well
that doesn't want wishes;
that can't give anything 
back
other than the muffled
tones of
copper and stone.

Throwing
what I used to think
was so precious
I wonder what
it feels like
at the bottom.

I lay around the stone
circling it
like an overturned lover;
like someone
uncaring.
I wonder if
20 feet down
feels as lonely as
up here.

We could fill it 
with sticks and mud
to keep the children safe.
We could write
a cautionary tale
or paint each brick
the gold
of forbidden space.

It wouldn't matter at all
to the circled stone,
to the buggy bottom.
All is the same
whether filled with air
soil or
fear.

Throwing pennies in a well
that may as well be haunted
I'll never give up
on well wishes
and forbidden places.