In the moment before

the bright flash, the outcry of terror, and the sudden silence,
A small boy walked beside his father, looked up at the sky,
Saw the great grey orb looming above the canopy,
Framed by a spreading hole in the morning mist,
The night’s deluge evaporating from long, broad leaves.
He tugged his father’s sleeve, asked him, Does it rain in space?
And if it does, after the rain, do new moons grow,
Like toadstools on the forest floor? His father smiled,
Turned his face to the sky, followed his son’s gaze,
Just in time to see the crater open, the laser beams coalesce.




Poetry by Lady Courtaire
Read 361 times
Written on 2021-05-07 at 21:52

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Ducks
It is always deeply meloncholy to imagine the world just before great tragedy. There are always little moments of joy and wonder erased by violence and destruction.

Absolutely LOVE the dialogue. It's pure and genuine. Truly wonderful is the mind of a child.

Deeply evocative contemplation on the moment before millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced.
2021-05-07