Sunday, April 13, 2014


Turtle Creek by Diana Mary Sharpton Photography
The Steel Ball
A steel ball rolls diagonally across a bench,
Faster, to an edge it must swiftly reach.
Metal on metal, a screech echoes in demur regret,
Gravity pulls, inward, sounds as it accelerates.
Motion yields to its build in speed,
Nearly stopped at the edge; as if to take heed.
Seconds pass shifting into a faceless dive,
Over the edge it falls, a refugee’s flight,
Downward, rapidly, speed comes alive,
Screaming, through time in a veil, disguising sight.
It hits the floor in furious velocity,
Propelling up, akin to keys thrown upon wind and sky!
Falling, fingers reach toward a corner flying by,
Touching, slipping quickly away from hold,
Half-way between the second and first, the story’s told,
Nothing to grab, encapsulated within space in flight,
Plunging into a painful free fall, the end approach’s sight,
A quarter past this time,
Nothing to grab, on a ship naturally misaligned,
Bounce, Bounce, and then it continues to rolls,
Quietly to arrive at rest as life unfolds.

© copywrite by Diana Mary Sharpton

1.)   Photography: Turtle Creek by Diana Mary Sharpton Photography

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