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Earthquake
January 7, 2022
there is a Part of me—that knows
the Sun will always rise;
Leaves will always fall;
and everything Dies—
and Tall—I’ll stand
through the whiteouts, the swirls—
and in the Sun, the same,
too, through the Rain—
but once the Sun arrives
and everything has Died—
the Day of Reckoning comes
in a gilded carriage to
carry me off, and I am gone—
a world away—Today—
your Pearls take shape in my palms
and I have put my feet
back on solid ground—
but still, I tread on fault lines
and the unseen, the unheard—
Tomorrow—I’ll crumble—
© Piper W., Pittsford, New York
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I was inspired by E. Dickinson (and by many other things, but I chose to write this piece in a similar style to Dickinson).