I start as a rumble
deep in the chest.
Erupt as a deep-veined
pocket of gold—
the dynamite in your
ink-stone,
much too close
to the flame.
Ambience is quite
the fashion,
yet I’m not too dry
and not too wet.
I flow with the ongoing current
that allows me
to be swept
up in the same water,
tag the undercurrent
for soliloquist games
and end up on the bank
to dry in the warm
autumn sun as a poem.

Pamela Otlowski