The Earthquake

 

I carefully tiptoe around

The delicate towers

Of glass,

Barely reaching my knees.

I hold my breath

As I cross the bridges

Of paper,

Groaning and warping

Under my weight.

The sky

Turns grey and tormented

It rumbles and thuds menacingly.

I turn to leave,

But my step summons

The creature of the sky.

Violent light consumes

The evening.

Panic.

Forgetting myself,

I run.

The glassy towers

Shatter.

The paper bridges

Tear.

Destruction aches for miles.

My perfect city,

Ruined.

 

-Kathryn Loden