We would remember that day’s forewarning,
But only the next day
When she exploded and the thick air
Threatened ongoing repercussions.
The clouds reminded me of Hiroshima,
Or the borrowed memories, only
Read in our history books, only
Remembered as distant fears
Of those who built shelters and posted signs
Still seen in high school hallways.
Those huge billowing clouds brought it forward,
The way they mushroomed, unnatural
Pages torn out and glued into the sky,
One overlaid the other at least 20 different ways:
A truly terrible arrangement of smoke and air.
We almost rushed to build our own shelters,
Desperate to protect our loved ones from the onslaught,
But the nuclear family had already blown apart.
We needed training in the aftermath.