Witness To Destruction
If the world was ripping apart at the seams;
and the sky fell off it’s high seated pedestal
and everyplace sparked from faulty wiring and lit up in fiery glitter
and the oceans raised a fist and left every corner drenched in salty sweet necessity
and the trees uprooted, hiked up their skirts and ran away
and the animals crafted their own transportation device to float back to their birthplace
and the winds, out of boredom, spiraled out of control
Would we notice?
Would we raise our head five inches upwards witness the beginning of the end?
Could we notice?
Could we peel our eyes away from the personal news device gripped to death in sweaty palms?
Should we notice?
Should we bother to even take action in the face of catastrophe?
Good thing the world is not ripping apart at the seams
Or else who knows what we would do.
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