I’ve got my ticket for the well, tomorrow,
where the enchanted water’s drawn.
Uh good luck with that my brother says,
who believes a narrow band of truth
that doesn’t include magic or angels
or the dead appearing at those places
that cast off the veil of the ordinary.
But I believe, and that is why I’ll go, and drink,
and maybe the departed will come back
for a moment, seen waving in the distance,
or an angel take my hand for half a minute,
or just the water’s spell that tastes of hope
and I’ll return radiant and see and breathe
the wide and shining world, alive again.
Alex Harper’s poetry has appeared in Mirror Dance, Kaleidotrope, Eye to the Telescope, and Cordite Poetry Review, among others, as well as three previous appearances in Liminality. He lives in England and can be found online at alexharperwriting.wordpress.com and on Twitter as @harpertext.