AFTER THE MUSHROOM CLOUD

Intro: up to 50 words (delete this text and enter your own)


AFTER THE MUSHROOM CLOUD

 

After the mushroom clouds

and the shadows on the stone

the world was not the same.

Where next? whispered the wind.

The mills of war turned,

the bombs multiplied

and children died.

 

And Don Quixote mounted his nag

and Sanch Panza his donkey.

Mad, quite mad, deemed the world,

but the madness spread

and people walked in hope

and hopelessness,

while the windmills ground out

napalm and agent orange.

 

Thousands of Don Quixotes

raised peaceful lances,

and Sancho Panza slept

on school floors

and cleaned the road

of orange peel and eggshells,

but the windmills kept on turning

and the children burning.

© Daffni 2020
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Ionicus

What a coincidence that both you and Shywolf brought up the subject of the ‘mushroom cloud’.
It is right and proper that we should ask ‘what next’. The threat of Armaggedon has not so far deterred the propagation of conflicts and the proliferation of weapons despite the feeble attempts of a multitude of Don Quixotes vainly waving their lances at unstoppable windmills.
The metaphor of the demented knight aptly describes the madness that we seem unable to stop.

TheRecluse

Good to read you poetry again Daffni, even when a domesday warning! Many images of madness in this.
Goth

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