Apr 6, 2023
The Drill
The Drill
A constant thundering through the day,
No pattern to the pauses,
Out of time and out of synch, you roar,
Though inside, my head feels your vibrations
And longs for your incessant din to cease,
A modern torture, grinding down the will
Of all the denizens in earshot,
How must it feel to handle such a beast,
Do shakes go on at night in ghostly rhythm,
Like sailors finding peace once more on shores,
How sweet the silence when the creature slumbers,
Until it’s time again to feed
And rip apart the veil of peace
Draped over the neighbourhood.
Tom Edwards