The Elevator, Falling (Poetry)

A rush — a hiss — a hush
the floor dipping away
slowing — steadying to a gradual descent
windows floating upwards
the indicator counting down — winking red
stale earthy air clouding through a vent
close to the floor
a rumble and a judder
the mental picture of wheels turning
cables stretching — friction — twitching taut
imagination sees the close-to-snapping
tension of it all
dark in the hell-bound narrow shaft
down to the basement
maybe past the point
of no return.

Time and temperature
the metal’s cold rectangle
a cage that dangles — lurching
as it goes
the sound of breath uneasy
condenses to a sweat — a mist
on silver walls
slick — nervous plummeting
the endless dive
the shuddering of doors
sealing in — confining dreams
trapped alive and falling
always falling — into black.