Poetry Corner | Machinations

Poetry Corner | Machinations

Great cogs turn beneath me.

The people and things around me 

rotate toward and away from me, 

orrerie of some incalculable gravitational 

pull. If we are close - let us be close, 

lock teeth.

For some force is already working 

against us, pushing on. The morning, 

it will come

We will blink, as if we did not expect it, 

and us here, in its grip.

We'll dress, frown at our own continuation. 

This article first appeared in Issue 21, 2017.
Posted 2:55pm Sunday 3rd September 2017 by Mel Ansell.