Nuclear Junkyard

Miranda Heyman

Dingy tracks, chipped white paint, lead

to the buildings that are peeling

like dried skin.

Seeping through the sizzling fog

a ferris wheel creaked, decomposing

along with the front line

littered through fields

of bright, crisp sunflowers.

Calculated swirl of their irises

mixing with stealthy fumes

that had already infiltrated sky

and earth. Bursts of gold catch

the hide of a doe, her hooves slip

over rocks her

skinny knees tremble she fades

into the brush. Once vivid orange

of a coyote now

matted and dull, his fur scattered

in patches. He lays down

in the shade of the sunflowers,

rusted blood staining gilded petals

Spring, 2018 Issue

©2019 by Ramifications. Proudly created with Wix.com