I smell a burning on the wind.
I taste lightning on the breeze.
I feel the earth inhaling
for a volcanic shout.
I see hordes beyond the horizon
when I close my eyes to sleep.
I know the roof above my head
will fall before I wake.
What is constant fear
but common sense,
The End of Days may come
and swallow up all life and light,
but in the cold and dark, before I die,
I will laugh—for I was right.
This poem is dedicated to Tara Westover, author of the tremendously important memoir, Educated. I could not imagine a book that encompasses the current political, religious, and cultural moment so completely.