Happy Contrails 2U

Silent summer white lines in the sky
always made me think that soon we’d die;
more so coinciding with the noontime air raid test,
neck craning to spot the fatal mushroom cloud out west.
Hunkered under desks in red brick schools:
looking back it seems that we were fools.
No one even talks of nukes or world war any more.
Now it’s just unending conflict as the news keeps score.

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I'm a writer living in Massachusetts.