Poems and Poetry

fatalism poems

Aftermath | A Poem by J.K. Durick

When it’s finally over, and they say it’s safe to return,
we do; the earthquake, the avalanche, the storm, or
fire is done, has moved on and we inherit what’s left
of our lives, walk down the once familiar streets and
search for pieces of what once was, of what made up
our small world, our brief lives; the optimists among us
talk of rebuilding, tell reporters that since no one was
hurt nothing important was lost; others walk around,
say very little, look at the scattered pieces, the shell
that remains of their lives before this, some will weep
others just stare at the empty world that’s left to them.
In this way, we get to learn about the ending of things;
this is the beginning of the end, this is the scorched earth,
the wasteland, what fate chose for us. We learn, we wage
the good fight, begin again, plan, rebuild, but know that
things like this happen over and over, to us, around us
and all we can do is watch and wait and know it’s coming.