Eruption at Kilauea Caldera
| filed under: Poem, Poets, Poetry, Poet, Poems
©1993 Chris Abraham
Eruption at Kilauea Caldera
Lava fields smell of unlit stoves.
The smoke from vents is milk
Poured into coffee.
A cragged lunar landscape
Petrified by sun and wind,
White driftwood trees
Crawl into the tissue sky,
Like scratching nails
On the fingers of angry witches.
Cinder crunches under foot ;
Smooth glassy sheets pop beneath me.
Red magma swims beneath the crust
I walk on, scalds my feet.
The ground creeps, prowls.
Brilliant lava flows in sheets
Of molten heat, eats wood,
Sputters against shrubbery
until the fire absorbs air.