Silence.
August 6.
8.15 AM.
Single B52.
Enola Gay.
Little Boy drops.
Drops in silence.
44.4 seconds.
Then the flash,
as white
as the sun.
9 seconds.
Uranium 235
has done its job.
Rumbling roar.
Then silence.
Shadows etched
onto wood.
Shadows burnt
into minds.
Kimonos tattooed on skin.
Silence.
Flattened.
Skeletal scultpure.
Black reddened mass.
Faces melted.
Bodies twisted.
Hearts frozen
in disbelief.
Silence.
Dying together.
Lying together.
Heaped in graves.
The stench of loss.
Nothing left.
Silence
Aimless wanderings
across the wasteland.
Hospitals treating death.
Wounds that refuse to heal.
Lives measured in days,
in hours,
in minutes.
Silence.
Unfolding weeks
of dislocation.
Skin falling.
Hair falling.
Bodies opening.
People falling apart.
Sickness visible and invisible.
Eyes glazed.
Silence.
22/5/2016