Quick, the sky is on fire
An atomic sunrise is on its way.

But this landscape seems used to it.
The pheasants don’t even tilt their head.
The rabbits are laughing
at a private joke, I didn’t hear.

I try to freeze the sky
on my ridiculously small screen.
There, a whiff of the bomb.
Here, some acid clouds.

I feel fluorescent.
Oranges and gold take [briefly] over
the mischievous greens in the soil.

The rabbits keep laughing
What are they on, now?

Meanwhile, a wounded sky
tries to return to normal.
Limping
greyish blue
not ready yet for tonight’s explosion.
But slowly,
gathering force.

 

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