The years of quiet serenity are paid for dearly.
Earthquake
The surface is serene,
Unaware of the tectonic plates
That strain deep below.
The more sustained the peace,
The greater the pressure;
Until, finally, the temblor,
A magnitude ten,
Erupts in all of its violence.
The greater the quake,
The crueler the devastation;
More persistent the aftershocks;
More calamitous the tsunami;
More toilsome the recovery;
And the darker the despair.
Poetry by Nancy Sikora
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Written on 2016-03-04 at 13:56
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