I took a walk in the woods that day.
I walked to where I always stop to see the view I always saw
Whether skies were gray or blue the same trees held tired vigil
Over their sleeping winter kingdom.

That day I walked a little further.
No wild sentry held me and inquired as to my intentions
The suspicious blackbirds cawed
The bluebirds and the robins remained silent. 

Travelers through the woods themselves
Their dreams of rest and warmth accompanied me
Though the dreams of birds and wanderers are fleet
The dreams of wanderers cannot lead.

Why walk on?  Branches grow in new directions
But point only as the compass allows
The leaves underfoot protested my passing as they
Protested for any path I took.

 A slip and a grab thwarted tragedy. There I met
The Well abandoned by his built companions
So old he seemed. His depth leading ever lower to older places still
Well allured with his mystery, and I smiled.

Well’s mystery, at his very deepest, was black
And black in the absence of all light is always the same black
A hole surrounded by trees built by men long ago
Only holds what mysteries I drop into it.

There were no mysteries before me as there were none behind
The cold was my driver as I found the familiar path
It looked much like any other path I’d taken
And I was very tired.