|My latest work. Have a look.|
Nuclear Winter'Mother, tell me again about the sun.'
She pauses scraping the stretched hide,
thinks. So many images she could give, in words
he wouldn't understand golden, sunrise, light.
Her son was born to cold darkness, has never seen
the sun, animals in clouds, gods in the midnight sky.
Some days, what she misses most is the sky,
more than electricity, than fresh tomatoes, than sun-
shine. The white tails of planes created scenes
of foreign adventure, when only thunderheads could hide
the horizon and the day produced its own light.
Now the horizon chokes on ash and she on useless words.
She never lets him see her cry when her words
become ghosts, unable to puncture the thick sky
and rest peacefully. She has nightmares about the light
from each subatomic explosion that burnt out the sun,
and she's haunted by a notion that there's nowhere to hide,
nowhere to run from the nuclear eyes of God and not be seen.
Before the years of winter, she and his father had seen
mankind linked with hopeful
|If you have something you would like me to critique, please send a note.|
jadefyres-freedom is a 20 year old young woman. She likes Marvel, Doctor Who, Star Trek, Pink Floyd, Bastille, and being creative.
She dislikes tomatoes and carrots, jerks, and negativity.
Bastille is my favourite band.
Avatar: The Last Airbender is my favourite TV show.
Pacific Rim I just really like big mechas and robots. I'm very easy to please.
Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I love Marvel. I love Coulson. It is what it is.