We stumbled upon it amidst the dance and discourse
Of a normal day.
The Earth had buckled open and a canyon yawned
Beneath our slackened jaws.
I asked how this was possible and why we couldn’t
Have witnessed it;
You said it was our absence which allowed it.
Our eyes would have hampered its unraveling.
Then we should have been there, I said.
To which you replied,
You cannot be all places.
Pain sweltered upward from that crevice
Like widow wails and a rumbling that
One may only run from.
Death had chosen that spot and cracked the crust
Of the Earth,
And we were only its posthumous witnesses.
Death chooses its venue and its tickets
Are not sold,
But are rather thrown about haphazardly
Like admission to a play which
None know anything about.