Monday, July 6, 2009

The Widow

Eight paths writhe through thick rubble
Faces on stones lie blackened and crumbled
The eyes that atom loved sleep somber and humble
And the deep white flames flicker and fumble

On the livid corpse both burning and dead
Of an eight legged widow deep black and red
The ancient love of atom grows fondled and fed
While eyes sweetly sleep on her carnage crowned head

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