Eruption

Soft bright colour on your roof
pegged to dry in ocean breeze
flying high on the blue

The mountain bursts, vomits fire and ash
ash that drifts, soft as snow

There, on your washing
an eyelash width of coal
another and another
speckles and chars

You are running to the boats
not stopping to breathe

Later, panic over, you return to
bring in your cloths of bright colour
see little mouths burnt through
black lipped, gasping

The mountain glows with lava
makes a second dawn each night

You wrap your damaged goods around you
sleep by the door
heaped in fear

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Sharing with earthweal’s Open Link Weekend.

18 thoughts on “Eruption

  1. The visuals in this poem are so well done. Especially the little “mouths” singed with black on the laundry on the line. I can only imagine how terrifying an eruption like this is to those living nearby.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Sherry. The last time a volcano erupted on the Azores was in the 1950s. It was believed at the time that the whole of that island would be destroyed. A young US Senator campaigned for the islanders to be allowed to settle in the USA, and a third of them did. They are still there. The senator was JFK……

      Liked by 1 person

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