Poem: Tesla Coil
A gold ball
Atop one of two curved, cold, coils
Draws to it an invisible lightning battlefield
Of racing white and blue
The controlled, collected and conducted conflict explodes.
Small sonic booms blast and sear
Through short distances of air
Burning at a million degrees
A firestorm of battling electromagnetic fields clashes
Erupting long arcs of electricity
Sprouting from the ball as a magnificent burning blue tree
It’s branches searching for metal like thirsty roots
In a pop,
Thousands of volts pushing thousands of amps over thousands of miles
Dance a negotiation with the air
Providing power without wires