by Jared Beloff

Sweat fell from the digger’s brow or maybe rain from the gray sky; it was just a little water, nothing to worry about until they felt their legs pulled down into it. They grabbed their waders and continued with damp feet, each shovel heavy with mud and clay. The trees stood watch, their hands folded at their waist. Eventually, the diggers called for a third man, and they cycled in and out of the grave trying to finish, piling the slurried soil higher. The water continued to rise. Only when one of them held a small urchin up to his eyes, its bright pins pink between thumb and filthy fingers did they stop, step out and see the rocks protruding from the sides slick with flowing green. One said it reminded him of a drowned woman’s hair. One thought of his mother. The third digger knelt, his face near the surface, and only saw himself.

Based on of a Jeff Wall Photograph.

Jared Beloff is the author of Who Will Cradle Your Head (ELJ Editions, 2023) and the co-editor of Poets of Queens 2 (Poets of Queens, 2024). His work can be found at AGNI, Baltimore Review, Image Journal, Pleiades and elsewhere. He is the Editor in Chief of Porcupine Literary. He is a teacher who lives in Queens, NY with his wife and two daughters. You can find him on his website jaredbeloff.com.