Forces – A poem by Philip Wardlow


volcano_reitze_1280
Forces  –
The needle moves
ever so slightly
on the seismograph.
Tracing an outline on paper of a potential
with no timetable.
Tensions, Friction, and Pressures
are building,
As traces of you run through
the cracks and fissures of
my brain.
A low rumble not discernible by the naked ear emits
a pocket of trapped steam released from a
great depth.
Building, ever building.
Keep your distance,
it’s not safe to be so close.
to the summit.
For there is no telling when
I might explode.
By Philip Wardlow

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s