Impossible Game

I walk across the field.
In the distance, across the cold dew
The green grass and the fog too
The grey shadowy, blurry rocks
Holding the top of the ancient and unused well.

A deep breath in, of cold.
I feel warm inside though
I need only my own soul.
The tree line in the distance
Carves out a circle around me
A green bull’s-eye in a dream.

I reach the center.

I reach into my pocket
The jeans try to tear my skin
At the bottom of the pocket are stones
and I feel the round round cold.

I press it between my thick fat fingers
Pull and look at it; my head on a swivel
I seem like a giant, a freak to this pebble

The well now feels small.
I must, drop the pebble in the well.
Blood pushing backwards through a syringe.
My sneakers crush the bull’s-eye park
I take a knee and close one eye.
Ready to release to the mark.

I see the hole and release the atom pebble.

No breath. Don’t screw this up.

Tiredness hits and I fall
The world seems bigger than me again , I exhale.
I crush the trees and forest and crash to my side.
I look across from where I lie.

I see the loose hatch of wood and weed.
Brown and green: the colors of life
fill my blue right eye.

I focus on a fallen wood log
splintered in large sections. The blackness
between planks is deepening.
I stare and fall in.

Smaller and smaller
I can feel it pulling me in. I must remember
to look out for foxes at this size.
“I don’t want to go in!”

I jump away from the black and sit under the log.
It’s hiding me now, as I sit next to the leaves.
I tuck up my knees and in come the clouds of fog.
I shouldn’t have been allowed to play this game.
I will just hide now. The sun streak hits my forehead.
And I finally release.