Contributed by David Jenkins
This morning, I awoke
to my surroundings swaying back and forth.
Much to my surprise, nothing broke.
My eyes wandered, surveying
what had become of our frozen north?
Minutes passed, followed by aftershocks.
I wondered, when will they stop?
The power went out, stopping the clock.
Time stood still
and my heart began to drop.
7.0 — the worst since ‘64
later that night, gathering camera gear…
before I dash out the door.
Arriving at the damage,
I’ve never witnessed something so severe.
Such a primal curiosity, which brought us here.
People explore — strutting on the ruined road.
Flashlights in hand, they illuminate the night.
As the fractures and crevices glowed
I set up my camera, to capture this sight.
Aperture, ISO, shutter speed…
adjusting my settings,
then my eyes take the lead.
Now — composing my shot,
archiving history, if I succeed.
I snap the photo. A long exposure.
It displays on-screen, I move in closer.
Silhouettes of trees, glimmering stars.
Purple hues in the sky, atop headlights of cars.
Exposing destruction, with every shot.
Finding beauty among chaos, artfully caught.
I view this world through my own frame.
A vivid recollection, that’s mine to claim.
I’ll glance at these photos
and then I’ll remember,
the day it all shook, in late November.