A flood

A flood

churns, rips, overwhelms.

Under the pulse of a false tide,

one that froths at the edges.

A drunk man

churns, rips, threatens.

Under the pulse of a false tide,

one that froths at the edges.

It,

smothers life’s detail

making the world invisible.

He,

smothers his wife’s detail

to make her fear visible.

3 Comments

  1. Billie Leatham says:

    Hey Meals,

    Fantastic!

    A few words are sitting completely right of the page though.

    It reads fine without them & I didn’t notice they were missing from the beginning of a few of the last lines of each group – I spied the words just sitting there & wondered what they were up to over there….

  2. Enjoyable read my friend!

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