I learned of them on Jockeys Ridge,

that mountainous dune on the Outer Banks

irregular sand-crusted tubes, the size

of a finger, or bigger, polished inside,

smooth as a rifle barrel.

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You find them in the sand after thunderstorms

when lightning strikes, stabbing

into the ground at three-thousand degrees,

superheating the sand around it,

fusing it to glass, forming solid branches

several feet into the dunes.

People dig them up, declaring their value

you can buy them on the Internet, complete

with New Age claims of their power to heal,

even to increase sexual prowess.

Forget the mumbo-jumbo

what impresses me is this document

to the punch of nature

that we can collect the souvenir

of a split-second, this newly-minted fossil

of pure deadly power.

06/14/2003

Author's Note: This phenomenon always fascinated me - I tried three versions of this poem and two are posted here (the third was a huiku). Please read both and tell me which you prefer.... d:-)

Posted on 06/14/2003
Copyright © 2026 Bruce W Niedt