I am lying
Below this tree
On my back with the bats
I see it rising like a mushroom cloud
Bellowing upwards to cover me
Glowing in the moonlight; moonlit
A river flows beside it

While tufts of grass reach
Over its banks
Like peasants at golden gates
With arms outreached
Pleading
To satisfy their thirst
In the stream of life
Unaware of the soft dew
Upon them

In the dark
The solitary streetlight
Reflects upon the water
Under
The blackout skies
A horde of medieval torches
Dances
Like dragonflies
Like fairies in little ships
Their ceremony
Continues