The End Of Days

My tree is my ambiance where shelter used to be safety.  Now, a fire burns sky, my tree home collapses with me still in it.

I scurry about, trying to catch all my nuts gathered for winter.  They fly everywhere.  My tree home splits open from all the quacking.  Wild winds hurl me around, keeping me suspended in the whirl.

Cracks form in the earth’s crust, splitting it open. Fires emerge.

Looking down, my heart beats rapidly.  “This is my end.  All sanctity is gone.”.

I land on top of sheet metal which used to be a billboard sign for a restaurant.

(c) Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2016


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