For the Time Being

by Charlotte McCaffrey

I was folding my laundry
when the bad news came.
When the black chasm opened before me,
I was warming tea. Making my bed.

We try to dodge the dark gorges
that suddenly appear. Side-step the slits,
just wide enough to have us.
This is our brawl with the world.

For now, I slog around the edges of them,
clothes flecked with mud and muck,
The sludge sucking at my shoes.

The earth opens her dirt-lined fissures,
taking back what is hers.
Everything is hers.

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