Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Twenty-seven
Winter 2011
The Geography of a Well
Andrea D.E. Levin

Careful walk, slight flicker of his finger
along the kitchen counter to keep his balance.

This same calloused finger has spent hours
circling the rim
of a glass of undiluted
Southern Comfort.
Eventually we stop hearing
the high, steady ring
that glides through the air.

Every night I clear paths for him:
through the study,
down the hall to his bedroom,
to the bathroom,
the ottoman kicked out of the way
and the toilet seat always up.

The geography of a well never changes:
The familiar dimming of light as we fall,
the same soft insulation of moss—
a dense ecosystem of darkness.

And on our backs,
the same narrowing frame of stars.

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