by Robin Byrd

There have been earthquakes over here, shaking up my house of cards. Strange how they aren’t actually falling from their perches one upon the other, row upon row. Almost as if glued in place, they stand. Yet in the background, I can hear glass shattering from my past Northridge earthquake memories, leaving shards of glass on the bookshelf from the one broken item – my high school prom token.  The glass shattered from the sheer sound of the earth shifting.  The wine glass read, “Looks like we made it” from the Barry Manilow song by that name, it’s words lingering in the air:

Looks like we made it
Left each other on the way to another love
Looks like we made it
Or I thought so ’til today…

I kept the shattered token for months till I just couldn’t anymore.  It was like the shattering negated something – like it stopped it in motion and throwing it away would make it final…

The past is either haunting me or resurrecting the unfinished need-to-be-finished things.

And I wonder why the cards weren’t falling…

Wonder how much more before the dam breaks and the cards come toppling down on themselves?

I keep wondering if the quake was stopping a motion or restarting something this time…  if it’s a good, good or bad, bad vibration.

The heat is always sweltering before the quakes. I’ve been dehydrated for weeks.  Forgetting to drink water. Forgetting to eat. Passing out. Not so much from the heat of the day as the heat of the memories, feeling I became nothing of what I dreamed I would.  Feeling like sharded glass on a shelf. Hoping I will make it to another dream or the full awakening of an old one. Maybe that’s why the cards are still standing; we’re gonna make it this time, and Phyllis (Hyman) will be singing,

Old friend
This is where our happy ending begins
Yes, I’m sure this time that we’re gonna win
Welcome back into my life again

And my house, this house, stacked upon itself, will no longer be built of cards…