The Bright-White Mushroom

The model of Hell
as Dante knew
was Hiroshima.

A child of ash
and bone and blood.

Like my child.
The flash of

a camera's bulb,
so bright, so bright

some might call it
beautiful, if they

hadn't lost their sight.

What savages
they were to us

and we to them.
Then came the mushroom,

its in-human heat,
poisonous powder,

thick black rain.
Which level of hell

are we destined for
if we do it again?

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