The End


The End

Hat crammed onto my head I walk
the streets. Nowhere to go now we have failed
ourselves for the last time. Elbowing through dirty
crowds of lost souls, I trip over a warm groaning body.
Sweating and feeling not unlike a corpse myself
I contemplate the glaring truth; we are all
beyond help. Finally, I spy the
park! Amazingly it’s
quiet here most
seek the
On my
I sit
I can
from here
as I watch the mushroom cloud blossom.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2015
Shared on 3/6/2020 with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub for Open Link Night #261. Because of the virus scare and all of the bad news recently, I decided on an old poem about The End I’ve never shared before except with a class with WordPress.

26 thoughts on “The End

  1. Lovely clear and effective write Bekkie – enjoyed the concrete structure as well – just u my street! I will be back for more, for sure… Regards Scott

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Very cool! I love this poem and I see the mushroom cloud. I also see a martini glass and it feels a bit like a toast to me. It does what poetry should do, stir us up inside. There could be different interpretations to your words, to me anyway. I really enjoyed it.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I love how you structured the poem. It perfectly mirrors a mushroom cloud. I love how the poem is about the end and yet, the “i” in the poem is really a survivor because to see the mushroom cloud is to be far enough away to survive the initial blast. So the end is really the beginning. 😉 Very clever!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s