The Photo

Poem based on a photo given to us by our professor.

She studied the muddy photo, aged
perfect, still. Cleopatra, breathless,
thoughtful, lava flows and craters
disappear under blackened sky.

Sharp, hard daggers hang, clinging,
contrasting her modern adornments.
She sits, contemplating,
blast explosions surrounding her,
vision, deafening silence.

Boiling, rolling waves release
to a crescendo, then soften,
running out of steam,
the train slows.