Centrifuge

Hold my hand,

for we are spinning

and I feel the power

of the centrifuge:

We could scatter,

we could be adrift,

we could grow cold.

Hold my hand

and we will be a wheel,

Hold my hand —

we’ll be a constellation;

With the force

of our collective gravity,

we’ll keep this warmth;

With our collective radiance

we will cohere.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 28, 2013