Practice!
Hide under bolted, wooden desks…
Hands over ears.
Hunch to the wall.
Head to a shelter.
The dream begins, then fades.
Kennedy…Krushev
Cuba…crises
The dream returns.
In the grayblack silence
The yellow sun expands
While catapulting toward me,
Mutely enveloping all.
In its incendiary yellowness, there is no escape.
An ominous silence awakens me.
Sitting straight up in the twin bed,
My heart pounds. The nape of my neck
Is drenched. Like lint to a navy wool suit,
Fear sticks to my tongue.
Where are they all?
Have they fled, leaving me behind?
The dream is strong.
Softly, a lawnmower sputters, then whirrs.
Morning aromas of bacon and coffee
Rise and fill my nostrils.
A neighbor’s child calls, “Danny, come and play.”
Everyday sounds. Everyday smells
Dispel my fears.
My body relaxes and falls back.
Armageddon is not here – yet.
The dream recedes.
MX missiles, nuclear freeze
Ronald Regan…dense pack
The dream returns.
In the grayblack silence
A searing sun expands
While catapulting toward me,
Mutely enveloping all.
In its hot yellowness, there is no escape.
