The Well

Masons break down boulders, lumbers pull down trees, he rests while they pollute his sleep with chaos of crash and creak. Boulders broken to bricks, wood chopped to poles construction begins on a fine summer’s day.

Wake up

The toxic, stale fumes from the hundreds of cars rushing past me on the molten, tarmac street woke me from what felt like a bear’s hibernation…