If there were Godzilla, like on the TV,
it was him. Angry with us people, for what,
I don't know;
Stomping around, smashing houses.
Shocking me awake,
I was scared.
There was a sound like a lightning,
striking a tree, ripping it in half.
Then I was pulled, pulled from side to side,
like somebody bumped the table and
I was jelly on a plate.
My mum and dad were beside me,
covering me with a shield of a blanket.
Feeling their arms over me, over my head,
I felt safe.
It stopped shaking and we ran out to the park
where I saw my friends in their pyjamas,
like me.
‘Mum. What was that?’
‘An earthquake, an earthquake hit us.
Stay close to me.’
An earthquake?
An earthquake that felt like,
I was standing on top of a Jenga tower.
It stopped shaking and we went home;
Shattered glasses.
No water from the tap.
No fire from the cooker.
Then I saw on the TV,
burning houses,
a twisted motorway,
a department store crushed
like a can.
This wasn’t my city anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment