I leaned over the well’s mouth,
and into that dark, I hurled
my childish curses. Startled,
I heard my last shrill words come back,
come back like bones coughed up
by a ravenous force living in the dark.
What did I know of hate?
I hurled my childish curses
at my father. I’ve forgotten why.
I was eight. Something he’d said
seemed unforgivable. Living in the dark,
what did I know of hate
that I thought my careless words
could ease? I hate you, I screamed,
and the darkness answered.
Something he’d said seemed
unforgivable. I stood there thinking
I could not be heard.
Now my father is dead,
and I still hear that boy screaming
I hate you. I know now that darkness
answers darkness, and some nights,
alone and dreaming, I lean over
the well’s mouth, gaze
into the dark fact that
my father is dead. I hear a boy screaming.
Startled awake, I hear his last shrill words: Come back!
Joshua McKinney’s fifth book of poetry, Sad Animal (2024), was the recipient of the inaugural John Ridland Poetry Prize from Gunpowder Press. His work has appeared in such journals as Boulevard, Denver Quarterly, Kenyon Review, New American Writing, and many others. His other awards include The Dorothy Brunsman Poetry Prize, The Dickinson Prize, The Pavement Saw Chapbook Prize, and a Gertrude Stein Award for Innovative Writing. He is co-editor of the online ecopoetics zine, Clade Song.