Deep dark tunnel of stone swallows a coin in turn for a wish.
Fall deeper into the echo of HELLO.....HEllo...hello.
Ripples from desire's light splash edges of dreams
where the cool damp moss grows.
Hope clings to the occassional vine for which to clutch.
Crank the handle, lower the bucket
Turn
Turn
Turn
Then dip into the springs of intentional containment.
Think and decide...close eyes...gasp
Let go
And in a moment of time, accept the truth.
