The Hole
I tossed my thoughts—paper, pen—
Into the mouth of earth again.
A careless dare, a fleeting whim,
To watch them vanish, stark and dim.
The hole was quiet, deep and wide,
A shadow carved in countryside.
I peered within, then took the leap,
To fetch the words I couldn’t keep.
The air grew thick, the light grew thin,
The walls closed tight like wrinkled skin.
My fingers brushed the ink-stained page,
But silence hummed a warning’s rage.
I saw the pens, their tips still wet,
My name half-written in regret.
But reaching out, I lost my grip—
The ground above began to slip.
No ladder down, no rope to climb,
Just echoes folding into time.
And in that hush, a voice rang true:
“You were safer when they flew.”
Now I sit with paper near,
But write with caution, not with fear.
Some holes are best left unexplored—
Some thoughts not worth retrieving for.
Clear & Precise Resumes 