Wednesday, December 13, 2006

#234: December 13, 2006

I ducked my head and burrowed like a worm
into that dark, tight space; but rigid, stiff
as bone, no pausing to consider if
I should go on--the tunnel hugged my form:
soft, warm, and wet like a volcanic vent
straight to the ocean floor; the scorching air
and musty smell--thinking now, "Do I dare?"
But those walls closed and squeezed, so down I went.
I tugged and pushed and slithered till I looked
on a white light that pulsed in time with my
exhausted, tidal heart; I felt a peace
that burned like cinders--then convulsed and shook,
holding the goal fast in my one good eye,
I thrust toward my eruption and release.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

oh, puh-LEEZ!

Sonnet Boy said...

Merry Christmas!

Ed said...

What, you got something against spellunking?