The Well and Alexandra

It was the flutter of a familiar cloth That snatched my eye Away from burning skies And drew me to the well That swallowed Alexandra A dress that danced with honey legs In summer grass And warmed the crowd of hearts The sun could never reach Each day in distant fields The afternoon had left this place To evening shadows Twisted by untended Trees and ancient ferns Unwelcome in the town And in the middle of the glade The gloom grew thicker Blooming in the rocks That crouched above the void From which the colours fled Maybe it was a bitter root That broke the dirt And hid beneath the leaves To snag a pretty foot And steal its little freedoms Or an early dew that lurked upon The careless stones So eager for the dark To hide their silent shame At utter uselessness But all those sly insinuations Winds were whispering Quickly drowned beneath The scream which falling ripped From Alexandra’s throat Remembered songs of heathered springs And starred luaus Were slowly curdled as Her terror grew with every Second that she fell Awoken by her tortured wail The darkness swelled And carried on her voice It seeped out from the well To claim the day itself Its tendrils gathered all they could Until at last I wept with joy to hear Her face of porcelain Exploding on the stones Half a glimpse of russet silk Embroidery Is all that lingers now To speak for Alexandra's Echoes in the twilight