Many tourists packed “atomic box lunches” and had picnics as close to ground zero as the government restrictions would allow. – “Atomic Tourism in Nevada,” PBS.org
Sparrow, my son whispers,
you stopped singing.
Cloudless blue. We are a privileged
family to view our sky kiss
high-quality bombs. I am a good
mother. I know this. I do not need
your promise, little bird. They call it
devastation. Greatest devastation
in the world. My son is not devastated.
My son on my lap, they test the atomic bomb.
My son leans into my chest, dull
from the summer heat. Half-eaten apple.
It’s all we’ll talk about, the bomb,
the bombs, at the grocery store,
at church. Until we speak of, once
more, the weather. Sparrow, I think
we forgot.
