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