children of jonah

they stared up from the bottom of the well–

tepid water pooling in the mud of midsummer and the walls arching their backs–

the quiet holding onto the noise that sinks their minds into slumber, peaceful, somber, murky–

they stared at the sky, stars hung, moonshine light and no lantern to amplify the dark–

they shone by their faces, wetted with grime and fixed on the stars–

the arching back of the bottomless well knelt before the faces–

still fixed upon the points of stars, they stepped out onto the curved stone.