THE ORANGE MUSHROOM

There was a flash of light in the sky. 
The mushroom blossomed, and then it died.
Like an orange sunset in the sky.
It was an awesome sight that graced my eyes.

A great hot wind came with a rush.
Turning all in its path to black and grey dust.
The pressure tore at their bodies with a fiery lust.
Crushing the bones of those who had trust.

After the initial impression and surprise had passed.
All was once again quiet and calm at last.
It all happened so quick. It all happened so fast.
In the end all was left with an eerie cast.

What appeared to be snow began to fall.
Covering everyone and everything. Covering all.
What was left from the mushroom, that fiery ball.
I'm not sure exactly, what you would call.

After everything's over, this is all that is left.
The devastating results of a worldly theft.
However those that remain are very adept.
They'll pick themselves up to rebuild with what's left.

They'll try to do better than those they succeed.
Try not to perform the same deadly deeds.
They know what they want, and what they need.
I think they've learned a lesson. I hope they take heed.

                                                                                Home Page                            Return to Poetry