John Farnsworth

Morning Mist

When the bomb is dropped may i be so near
my somber sullen soul be turned to ash.
Let loose to drift upon atomic breeze.
So fortunate to pass in brilliant flash.

I have conversed in verse with fools by night,
yet spent some goodly hours in scholar's light.
Still none of us have chanced to be so wise,
as to profoundly simplify demise.

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