Startled from sleep as the room shakes,
California has earthquakes,
Whenever it happens everyone wakes,
As something breaks.

Sucked to the screen as the wind blows,
Curtains stuck to the windows,
Where the wind comes from nobody knows,
Nor where it goes.

A ray of white light as the curtains part,
Is spilling out of the moon’s heart,
Falls on the stars of my zodiac chart;
When will it start?

Predicting disaster a Mayan rune
Etched by the wind on the sand dune
Says that the end of the world will be soon;
When earth shades the moon.

The Chumash believed that the earth’s mighty roar
One day could shatter the seashore;
California the island of Hispanic lore;
A myth no more.

|| My Poetry ||