Awakening in the Crater

I am here
    in this crater
Devastation in every direction
    but Up
And I can hear her crying
I haven’t seen her since the collision
    but I can hear her crying
There is this little dirt fountain in the center
And cracks and crevices radiate from it
There isn’t a rock bigger than a pebble
There are these . . . I guess they look like skinny antlers
    of blackened glass
Fused sand memory of the heat of the blast

It must have happened in seconds
A ripping sound just before . . .
Millennia will pass before the scars of this Armageddon are blurred
I wonder about the nightmare bowl once cauterized by of Hell-fire
And gradually realize that I have no idea
    why I’m here
Or where I came from for that matter
I mean
I’m me
    but I can’t exactly tell you where or what me is
And for some reason I don’t really care
I wonder if this is some residual after-effect . . .

It comes to my befuddled awareness
    that there is a man of sorts
Drifting above the scorched earth
    just off to my left
He is just at the range of shouting and
    I can see him well enough
    if I focus
I ignore him and continue my dazed
    random sojourn
    across this desert place
He’s still there
Always at about the same distance
I can feel him
    but I feel no threat
    how can he hurt me more . . .
My God
I’m hurt . . .
Hurt bad
Ouch . . .
Right here
    and here
A little bit here
What the Hell . . . ?
I’m hurt

How did I get hurt?
Was I here when this thing hit?
I’d be dead
Am I dead
Do the dead hurt?
Maybe you get to feel the last thing
    you felt just before you died
For all eternity. . .
I’m not dead
Don’t know just how I know this
    but I’m not dead
I turn to regard the floating man
He isn’t dead either
Just hovering there with that daft grin
I wave
    he waves back

I hear a breaking sound
    it sound like rocks cracking
The Sun is setting beyond the lip
    I guess that must be West
The part of the bowl that is in darkness is snapping
    and popping and  . . . grinding I guess

In the dark
Tendrils curl up out of the crater
Dark smoky coils of darkness
Writhing up and twisting
    like worms in a dead eye
A dark forest
Some twine around each other
    some stand alone
They are all wriggling
    and squirming
Undulating in waves
And my hand passes right through them
This is somehow comforting

I wonder if they are some alien
Life form that fell out of the sky
Nourished by the asteroid debris
    that impregnated the earth
But unable to cope with the native elements

Even if the rain filled this crater
Wait a second
It has rained here
The water soaked directly into the ground
    there were no puddles
Where did the rain go?

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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