cantaloupes & wishing wells 

i read that his daughter 
drowned in a well in the backyard--
that she leaned over the too far edge 
& fell. how deep were wells back then? 
i dropped a cantaloupe in the grocery 
store & all the pieces scattered 
across the tile floor-- 
sweet orange flesh & green rind.
i tried to clean it all up with paper towels
& i wished dad was there because
he knows everything about cantaloupes.
i've never seen a well 
like one in fairy tales:
big stone circle, wooden basket 
w/ a crank to send it down for water.
if i check in the backyard tomorrow
& one has appeared i will assume
it's a coincidence & i'll probably lean over
the edge (irresponsibly). i know it's naive
but i think i would enjoy falling in.
i imagine the water is cool even 
in june. i think the only think 
that would scare me would be no knowing
what was below me. are there creatures 
that live at the bottom of wells?
maybe on the way down i would 
turn into a cantaloupe-- knees tucked into
my chest-- skin becoming coarse & crater-ous.
i'm waiting now for dad to 
hit my head with an open palm to check 
if i'm ripe & ready-- putting his
hear to my forehead & listening. i don't
know what he was hearing inside melons
when he'd drum them but they were always sweet.
floating in the water or smashing on
the stone sides of the well. there's a well
now this afternoon in my room
on the second floor. it's best not
to question the logistics of god or water.
i washed my face in it & peered down--
spoke echo & was startled by how much deeper
my voice was than before. i reach in & 
find there's cantaloupes bobbing 
in the crisp water. i pluck one out
& drum to summon a grocery store downstairs--
sit in the basket of a shopping cart &
wait to be pushed around-- monotonous 
beeping of check out aisles loom in
the distance. if i did fall in the well
like his daughter i would tread water like
they taught me in swim lessons,
then i would scale the wall-- easier said
than done when your body is a cantaloupe--
fingers round & useless-- do you ever look
at your hands & realize how much they 
resemble honeydew? sitting at the breakfast bar, 
dad slicing a melon to make our mouths &
dropping each pair of lips
one by one in the sink that is also a stone well.
we open our sugar-jaws to breath &
end up swallowing the well's 
worth of water
& drown.