A small thing and a large thing in the same poem for today’s NaPoWriMo prompt.
One small word tossed at random
clanging from the sides of the well
we should have left alone.
We should have found a safe pond to admire
with smooth unrippled skin,
where the sun and moon mirror,
and there are no dark depths.
We should have held hands
and watched the smoothness of the water,
and let our hearts unruffle.
Fern fronds guarded the parapet,
but you leant over, laughing,
liberated from the weight,
as the word fell, fell.
It’s falling still.