Waterfalls

Imagine the power – rapids
rushing to the edge,
foamy haze
bubbling to the surface and bursting
as they smash

on rocks before
cascading in roars through a jungle
of watery falls
and tumbling with the audacious
desire to smack

the water below
in a cacophony of damp shallows
– that befalls
the man in the barrel,
altitude depleted.


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Posted to dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today Frank asks us to write a poem that includes descriptive detail and makes the reader want to re-read … so maybe read it again.

Published by Phillip Knight Scott

My name is Phillip. I live in North Carolina with my wife of 12 years and 5-year-old son. I am a Tar Heel born and bred and watch every Yankees game I can. I'm still searching for my own TARDIS. My first novel, "The Alien in the Backseat," is available now! https://amzn.to/3oVCG77

34 thoughts on “Waterfalls

  1. The “man in the barrel” can be a metaphor for so many things; as are waterfalls. I like the immediate flow of the piece, and am hip to the undercurrent.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We are all in the barrel, we know it, we hear it, entropy pulls us one direction, but like you ending we almost always seem surprised. This is either terrifying or comforting, one can either just enjoy the floating ride until the inevitable and not worry. Or one can worry. See you on the outspout or the undertow friend. I hope we choose to enjoy the ride.

    Liked by 1 person

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