Well by Therese Down

 Therese Down is one of my favorite International Christian authors. Aware of her power to make History come alive, I had not read her poetry. This is one of her poems that spoke to my heart. One that I will read and reread once again.
John 4: 15: The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water
so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”
An ordinary day. Wake late. Usual tomb-close gloom.
Striped split of light, stale meat stink on my tongue.
Him, still sleeping but the snoring just a goat snort now,
not the camel calls of younger hours.
I twist my hair into a snake and wind it round itself,
stoop to grasp the pitcher, grudge into sandals,
tread through dust, push the door onto more dust,
swat stares like flies. Now I only burn beneath sun.
A man is sitting on the well. It’s too early
for the up down eyes, tongue dart through bearded lips.
I smell. Haven’t washed the sweat away or him.
I just wanted water. Wasn’t planning on living forever.
thegalwayreview.comtherese-down-five-poems/

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