Tumbling down the mountainside.
Rock sliding, somersaulting over tree.
Rules of nature overturned,
Only gravity matters.
The cavalcade becomes a riot
Screeching birds take flight
And scuttling refugees flee
From out of the undergrowth for their lives.
This tremor, no more than a shiver of the earth
Becomes amplified. As it journeys
Out from its epicentre across the valleys,
Through the mountain like a juggernaut
And rock unmoved for ages is parted,
Cracks appear, as it rumbles on into the realm of man.
History, reduced to rubble.
Metal twists, like a twig.
No adversary fit to face
This ancient behemoth.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Made of sticks and stones 
Fabulous write! I think I felt the earth tremble while reading it 😊
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Reblogged this on Made of sticks and stones and commented:
Day 5 of my review, and a poem about the fragility of life and the power of nature.
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