Atomic Wind Coming

Early burning across the tar days of war season
hammers attention like a ticking sentence.
As embers, local smoke on the condor's horizon,

diplomats ballyhoo the company material.
Outlaws engulf a cul-de-sac church,
speaking wildfire grace in traditional

anonymity. They satellite beach-side
images, evacuate finally to a honey
canyon river, still unidentified.

-- David Stinson

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