We can’t see that wind
for Pilgrim nuclear reactor
We live on the side of an invisible
volcano of poisonous energy, never
able to guess the moment it will
come to our homes to kill us.
It could overheat, blow up.
Could leak. Could release a tainted
cloud drifting over the Bay.
Enter us through every trusting
portal, filter into the precious
water table under us shaped
like the hull of a boat. Color
the soil with its intangible dye
till every tree soaks it up, every
squirrel and chipmunk and deer,
every coywolf and cat and dog
eats it into their wasting genes.
Our children will bathe in it,
will consume it for breakfast,
will sleep in its silent waves.
The decade of cancer comes
the next time a worker is sloppy,
when the earth quakes hard, when
a hurricane or terrorist strikes
at that aging factory of death.
Copyright 2014 Marge Piercy
Box 1473, Wellfleet MA 02667