there’s a way through the woods with stepping stones;
some blue ones going west into new darkness
or a silver trail ahead into old light
or brown ones lopping out towards my right.
Right - all is solid,
ahead – future history,
left - a big mystery.
Now, time to choose
and early this morning, I drove East
as a crimson sun caught my eyes;
rising up - a separation from land
- up, up and away, from god knows where.
One fission bomb, like clockwork,
ancient and total, emerging from dark.