Smoke Plumes

Smoke plumes
Break the stillness,

A high pitched siren
Splits the white noise

And the rise of barking dogs
Disturbs the scattered birds;

Curtains twitch with worry,
Skin quivers in the darkness

And naturally we fear the worst.

Not one of us guessed
It was a gas leak,

We’ve all seen the news,
Absorbed the sad faces
And used excuses to prove

We are golden.

Now we drink tea,
Hold hands and sing
Our own propaganda,

As the soft subtle dance
Of ash gently descending

Tells its own simple story
And fades,

Settling at our feet
And forgetting


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