in the days following the destruction of the waterfall,
survivors began looking for cinderblocks
to shield themselves from the coming fallout,
believing there was no chance of resurrection
snarling foliage
had unmercifully folded into any eventual retreat,
as the radiating heat commanded passageways
to melt everything up tight
(once there was a Reservoir,
but even silver fishes
have lost their courage to drown)
stages now crumple into stages,
and after those desperately cynical days,
no answers come from
anyone anywhere anything,
no wind will care to carry human voices
save enduring stricken heartbeats
evaporating so comfortably back to earth
11/24/70