Stormwash

"Dishonest thunderstorms will smoothly wash the burning radio."


Mama blocks our view outside the house
The Thunderstorms roll loudly toward us
we want to play in the rain we hear coming
Papa screams No! No! and we hear a smashing sound.
I burst past Mama and see Papa
on the ground holding our radio all broken now
as the soldiers laugh and smash
our music, our news. our link to the world
and then the fires started
and the Thunderstorm smoothly rolls away.


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