Nuclear Nightmare
The enemy strikes an air force base
17 miles from our home.
Blinding light. We flee windows
and patio door. Seconds later
glass explodes through rooms.
Wood surfaces smoke.
The shock wave an earthquake.
Then a thunderous explosion,
mushroom cloud billowing,
its core roiling flames.
Check that spouse has survived,
then think of daughter, 20 miles
north. Will her office still stand?
What next? Grocery stores looted,
banks overwhelmed, cash and water
hoarded.
I awake in sweat. Clutch the Bible.
My forehead on cool grain of leather.
The sooner we disarm the world's nuclear arsenal, the better. Unfortunately, so many believe in the idea of building these weapons for "defense," when they are only offensive weapons and really quite offensive in what they do. Let's hope that your poem and its nightmare aftermath, never happens with sound minds in control.
Ron