by Wade German
The signs emerged the night before;
across the northern hemisphere
astronomers went raving mad.
The governments urged calm, not fear
despite the evil effluence
that ebbed out from the planetoid
so new to our blue atmosphere,
that combined nukes failed to destroy.
Days passed; the rock receded back
into the gulfs from which it came.
Through eldritch fog that wreathed the earth
then strode the gods without a name.
Wade German’s poems have recently appeared in Dreams and Nightmares, Mythic Delirium, Phantom Drift, Space and Time, Weird Fiction Review and previous issues of Abyss & Apex. He currently lives in Prague, Czech Republic.