This Old Earth

Keeps me in line

Heather Martin (@cadenzacreates)
Blue Insights
Published in
2 min readJun 27, 2022


Photo by Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash

“Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you.”

Thornton Wilder, Our Town

There’s not much new to this place we call Earth — the wallpaper, once silk grandeur, is cracked, and people don’t want wallpaper anymore. Or that’s what “they” say, and I guess it’s true — this is a “they-ism” I don’t question. Would you?

Some say the creak of the floorboards is “charm,” others say it’s cause for alarm. All I know is I can’t sneak out at night without the crack, crick, creak alerting the whole world of my plight. Ah, try as I may, try as I might — this old Earth keeps me in line.

The dusty mantle where our faded memories sit — pictures of life and death intermixed — joy and chaos, love and war — sitting here atop the fireplace that used to roar with flames of fervor — oh, what a fantastic sight. Now it remains cold, unable to light. But the bats in the chimney appreciate the den — no more fire for us, but now there’s a home for them.

And sometimes, I sit at the cracked window and look out upon the lawn. Once a lush green tapestry, now a patchy brown travesty. I can almost hear the cries of gleeful ghosts traipsing far and wide, alight with once wonderment now turned to fear. A spectral warning, hanging in the air — even the phantoms know the end is near.