I have placed my feet on the landing
lines of sight end at a shut door
a hand fumbling a key ring
a fist pressing an unmoved lock
reluctant legs shoulder stiff hips
echoes ricochet around the well
sore hand leans on a cold rail
just steps to a near-felt rest
something falling down the well
beautifully lit by the stained glass
eye-first down the shaft following
a form, a speck, a black circle
something flapping up the well
rising faster than a turning eye
precedes a wake of fragrant air
a bouquet after the rainstorm
protesting thighs resume active duty
below-foot placed above foot
right-foot hungry for extra steps
a key hungry for its meaning
