by Vanessa Valliere
There’s a party going on out here in a long rolling field and the women are wearing bright dresses. Their hems float just over the tops of the green grass. The mens’ laughter clinks with the ice in their cocktails. There is music for dancing and a table covered in big purple grapes and bread and little cheeses with toothpick flags. The bread is still warm. Some people are dancing on large rocks with their eyes closed and there is a couple rolling down the hill.
I am shouting into a well, “Isn't the weather fine?” I'm asking. And: “Isn't the breeze nice?” And here comes my strained echo, pushing up from the bottom and trying to find its way out.
-Vanessa Valliere
Saturday, January 29, 2011
In the Company of a Well
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