PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Uncounted fires have died out now.   Toxic

smoke still lingers above us who cringe in the

ruin and rubble of our (supposedly, once)

indestructible shelters.  Dawn:  the last;

we, few, must die soon.

Above the western horizon, rises the

Destroyers' vessel---ovoid, magenta; and

(our still functiong instruments say) larger

than the sun, though still some distance beyond the

orbit of Neptune . . .

Starward