Gnometry

For some, the fracture is so close
To the fall, the crack of thunder
So close to the lightning, they seem
To strike simultaneously,
With no time to anticipate
During a long and painless fall
How much it will hurt to hit ground.

They wake up already under,
Already broken and in shock.
What had been, loosely, around them,
A day’s ordinary details,
The rhyming rubble of gravel,
Rough poems of dirt’s geometry,
Split, fused, and vitrified at once.