The red plane was back,
Sweeping low over the trees
To avoid radar detection,
Then banking steeply
Away to the right
Into the adjoining field
At the back it's my house.
I could run
In those days -
Perhaps that was it.
I was the only one
To actually stand
In the rainbow,
When the others arrived
The DDT was already falling
In a fine mist,
Like that summer rain
That soaks you
Through in minutes.
Then again it could
Have been any of
The other chemicals
I breathed in,
Ate and drank
Over the ensuing years.
I don't think there is any need
For an autopsy.