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[CA] I saw the fault lines in our common ground, But wavered—loath to estimate the force And timing of the tremors they foretold; Why test this fragile paradise we’d found, Perhaps provoking nature’s wildest course— Or dig for rifts when random knolls gleam gold? I never yet have walked a tract of earth Without a flaw: some harbor muck below That muddles building; some hide barren soil Plowed far too long to nurture crops of worth; And some lie cold, inhumed beneath the snow. Small faults should make no solid heart recoil, But you would probe our playg
