Continental Drift

We are tectonic plates 
in a house of misgivings, 
knocking together 
then apart, lava flowing 
dull-eyed & destructive 

closer to the village. 
It’s said life passes 
in the blink of an eye 
while we become set 
in our ways. In my heart 

is a vase of dead flowers 
crying without tears 
for the sun, each skintight 
night strangling it 
a little more, a little more.


The idea for this came from the prompt word “Continents” in a private NaPiWriMo Facebook group. Right away the idea of tectonic plates as a metaphor for a relationship came to my mind. It’s a beginning.

5 thoughts on “Continental Drift

  1. Oh I like this a lot a lot. As a poem, wonderful flavor. I’d say that all in bold but it’s not polite. As a topic, a jumping off place – yes, right up my ally too. By internet accident, became a geology student. We are so small, so brief, that we just don’t see with our human eyes the amazing place where we live.

    One attribute I might lean into however. Granted, magna makes a mess of what already is – however it is first, a creation process (ie. the Hawaiian Islands for example, being in total, all magma once upon a time). Something to celebrate I think.

    Then becomes new question, does our personal relationship lava also make new land? Don’t know.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I did actually consider using lava as a “new land” or as rebuilding the relationship. I may yet do it. I often revise my napowrimo poems. Thanks for reading, Neil. I really appreciate your thoughtful comments.


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