#140: Apocalypse

I wonder what stories we’ll tell

of the apocalypse

when the world was on fire

when the plagues came

when everyone had to go inside.


Will we talk about the way

our glasses fogged up

or how coat closets became

mask closets?

Will we remember

our haunted homes,

quiet and still

collecting dust

for only us?


Will we remember how we moved

through our days

leaving coffee mugs and

piles of mail,

reminders to ourselves

that we are still alive.


Will people recall

the sounds of the sirens

the empty subways

the quiet skies?

Will we remember how the planet

breathed again

grew green again

hoped again?

Will we remember how grief lingered

because goodbyes and funerals

were stolen like

final breaths?


What stories will we tell

of the apocalypse?

I hope it’s how

we were never the same.

I hope it’s how

love found a way.




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I'm Sarah (Are) Speed, the writer behind Writing The Good. I'm so honored you're here! To get more poems, follow @writingthegood on Facebook and Instagram! 

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