The Moment After, a poem of Hiroshima

It’s strange, there was no pain.
The atom moves too fast for that.
It left my shadow on that wall,
There’s nothing else intact.

It’s strange to die so quickly
I had no time for fear.
Swept up, as in a rapture
Less than a leaf, more than a tear.

My conscious self dissolving
Like a sugar dropped in tea.
No body left to bury
You incinerated me.

Elsewhere in the city
They’ll unearth a murdered clock-
It’s hands forever frozen
on the moment I was not.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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