Hey, Santiago!

Hey, Santiago I see both of our faces in the water I'm reflected here beside him at the bottom of the well and I wonder Is it me now belonging here Is her face impressed upon the water We only opened the hatch very briefly Late morning, winter sun flashing behind two heads soft with the knowing I hear the chickens still Picking up the corn behind me For a second, we are at the bottom of a well A pinhole snapshot pressed into the blood of the land That has been calling me I never said it was easy