Suddenly I’m flying, hardly living, hardly dying.
The world beneath me slips away like children’s toys all scattered,
Like it really never mattered.
Like the child had gotten tired
And his toy guns he fired
‘Til all the toys beneath me lay in disorder burning,
Yet the world goes on turning.
Then suddenly I’m falling, hit the ground and start rolling
Over blackened earth still hot from fires that burned an hour before.
Someone evened up the score.
I see only miles of black,
Looking forward, looking back.
Not a living thing in sight that greets my eyes, sore from flight,
Only wreckage from the fight.
I get up and start walking, to myself I start talking,
Just to hear the welcome sound of human voice in my ears;
I must hold back my tears.
The world’s fate is plain,
All is gone, not feeling pain,
But going with a flash and bang and quake.
The suddenly I awake.
c1968 Carol Kerr Buckles