Note: To any reader unfamiliar with Greek mythology, the “she” refers to Persephone.
Of course I felt it.
How could I not?
A quake so vehement,
my whole body shook
in sympathy with her being
seized. A terrible rending groan
swallowed my scream::
the lower half of my cave, ruptured.
Then a thunderstorm of rocks–
in its wake a steady and constant drizzle
of sand, the earth’s dry tears,
filling my cave and, alas, my well.
I couldn’t dwell there any longer.
Climbing out and up,
I took the one thing left:
my flaming torch.
Brigitte Goetze lives in Western Oregon. A retired biologist and goat farmer, she now divides her time between writing and fiber works. She finds inspiration for both endeavors in nature as well as the stories and patterns handed down from generation to generation. Her words have been published in print and on the web. Her website can be found at: brigittegoetzewriter.com.