Remarks as for part one,

part three to follow


Follow he does, I hear the door. He knows
where I’m going. To my friend. The Well.
Little more than a slow trickle, these days –
a seep of moisture, a patch of damp ground, and
a clump of mint up the slope form the garden.
Roy’s Grandma introduced the Well and I
after my first pregnancy ended in stillbirth.
We’d come sit on the grass and talk, or not.
She’d make mint tea with the Well’s water,
“Best water on the farm”, she’d say,
Some days she’d add “For what ails you.”
Granny and The Well nursed me back to health after
the first loss, through the second pregnancy and
A second stillborn son. Granny died before
The Girls started to come. The well is my friend
Why bring Roy out here for sex? “It can’t hurt.” so?
“The Well told me?” What would people think,
That I’m crazier then they thought? Hardly.
Well, The Well did tell me. Not in so many words
I got the idea sitting there with the girls,
A sudden deep physical longing for Roy, here
In the dark of the Eve of Midsummer
....
Roy took the short path through the garden,
He’s standing in the dryimg puddle looking
back towards the house a lilttle bewildered
I went the long way up around the shop
I’m behind and above him I slip close then
I run out and tackle him we both fall in the mud.
He throws mud at me I throw it back
Roy looks so much younger with mud on his face
We laugh an giggle as we smear mud on each other.
The cool mud across my erect nipples sends spasms
through my belly, the garden within, my womb,
aches for his seed. We embrace standing
Ankle deep In the mud. The touch of his hand
on the small of m y back have me white hot
with lust but a dying spark of sanity knows that
this Is not the place, not quite. Above the seep
Is a flat spot of soft grass bordered with iris
I lead him There. Then I lay down spread eagle.
I am suddenly part of seep and the earth;
My desire grows an hundredfold, as my reason
Ebbs away I say with a voice that Is not mine,
“Come take me now”