Watching My House Burn Down
In science fiction people may live
on an asteroid hurtling through space.
Here on Earth, where we came to be,
few of us realize how fragile we truly are.
It’s a rude awakening from a dream.
This sudden shift of dimensions
arrives on a clap of thunder and
leaves me looking for someone to punch.
Do I sound a bit strange?
That’s because I’m somewhere between
watching my house burn down and
realizing I can never build it again.
I’m approaching the street corner
with no idea what’s around the turn.
This epoch will be the end of something,
but it won’t be the end of everything.
“Memory is the first casualty of middle age, if I remember correctly.”
This poem was written on May 22, 2023.
©Brian Mueller - All rights reserved.
