when it became dark it was the slow steady spinning of the world we had to blame while rockets huddled in their holes waiting for the year zero we could not count down to cause, or pause while superpowers chose an illusive détente we mostly sipped complacency from false hope cups the world kept on spinning the missiles slept our nightmares became past tense with no promise of future perfect then some-where some-how some-one some time moved but a single digit, a scrawny feeble fiddle on an impotent OMNIPOTENT CATACLYSMIC APOCALYPTIC UBER DESTRUCTIVE hand and now our darkness does not wait for the casual yawing of our few sextillion tons it is there for all to see for all times though the times are no longer measured as years for stones, bones and ash have no fears
alternate title: Carl Sagan's dream My generation was the first to come of age with the threat of total annihilation of the species (and likely all life) by nuclear holocaust--we had h-bomb drills in which we would hide under desks or be herded into the basements of our schools (some of us knowing full well these were futile endeavors since all out nuclear war would have been an extinction level event) In the decades since the end of the cold war, we have let this ultimate fear slip into the background, assuming a saner reality now exists...another illusion?