the squalling cries
coming from so deep
I run out of breath
shuddering hoarsely
my jaw distending
popping from
its usual place
muffling the endless
recycling sound
that continues through
the inhale
never expressing
the loss that I feel
the deep well
of pilfered soul
a bucket plummeting
through the center
no rope
just a whistling
echoing off
the hewn
stone walls
because of
the hole
with no
eventual
splash
K.B. Silver
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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