Some day, far or near there will come a road
crossing my bushy byway — a junction
to stop at; to decide; to avoid hesitation
fear or dear lord make me not cross
over
to the side where, like the back of my hand
the black bush hides every well — left lost
with hands needing turning
over
to reveal no traces
of life left — no wells, unwell
in a world with no wells
[ fading exit ]
with no source for life
— our lives end