The Sky was Falling

 

It seemed, 22 years ago,

the sky was falling, and

the ground moved beneath

our feet in terrifying quakes.

 

For those that know,

saw it all, felt it all,

gasped and covered our

mouths; the sky is still falling.

 

Falling, ever since, in

drop after drop of

new paranoias, of new

fears, of bumps in the night.

 

The perpetual “other shoe”,

hanging over a generation,

like the sword of Damocles,

to pierce our already delicate esteem.

 

Time hasn’t softened

the sky falling,

it only falls a little differently

than it did.

 

The effect is the same,

the fears are the same,

for those traumatized,

the terrors are still falling.

 

The sky was falling,

only then to be replaced

with a horrible,

unfamiliar silence.

 

Maybe once,

the sky was falling,

and Chicken Little wasn’t so wrong,

to be so worried.