“No Man is an Island.” —John Donne
his well is full of dreams
he is clueless of its depth,
sometimes it seems so shallow
it leaves no room to drown
so, therefore, saves his breath
his head is full of wells
too numerous to know,
their shafts are in the millions,
drilled down and down—
but they’re empty,
more or less
his heart’s a pool of water
restless as a sea
deeper than the deepest dream
an insomniac can’t fathom,
therefore, he never rests
his self is bound by oceans,
water is its fate,
he breathes when he is able,
if he’s not he has to wait
to catch a rising bubble
which is shimmering
but hollow
Jim Culleny
2/14/22