Rebecca Buchanan
the woods in the wind
the bombs fell
the world burned
and the earth heaved and sighed
dying
her last breath
catching up seeds
and pollen
and spores
and ash
and cast them high
into the cold
and the dark
and the sun exhaled
a cry of mourning
and gathered up the seeds
and the pollen
and the spores
and the ash
and bore them safely
through the dark and the cold
and into the care of her fourth child
and so the trees
and the flowers
and the ferns
grow again
black
in red soil
against an orange sky
scorched by the fires of armageddon
_______________
Rebecca Buchanan is the editor of the Pagan literary e-zine, Eternal Haunted Summer. She has been previously published, or has work forthcoming, in Eye To The Telescope, Faerie Magazine, Polu Texni, Silver Blade, Star*Line, and other venues.
Editor’s Note: The polysyndeton in the poem anchors the exasperation of pending doom, as does the Mercator projection of the world, blackened, against the fire.
