I was schooled to cower
under the shelter of
my wooden school desk
to hide from fallout
raining from the sky
in blasts brighter
than the noonday sun
raising umbrella clouds
to announce the end of days
 
But for one July evening
I lay under a clear night sky
in a field damp with cleansing dew
while man walked far above
on a waxing crescent promise
that we might someday
rise high enough to look down
upon our own self-destruction
and perhaps once more
to touch the heart of God


© by Randy Cadenhead.
Used with the author’s permission.