I remember the the year of Chernobyl;
the silent drizzle glazing my skin,
how the spring seemed greyer, the greenery sick.
I remember the year of Chernobyl
how mushrooms and berries lay wasted
and woods were deserted for cesium downfall.
I remember the year of Chernobyl
a warning of something: the drizzle
in April that whispered us houshanouu secrets:
but what did we learn?
Linked to Toni’s prompt on rain at toads. Sweden was affected for years after the Chernobyl accident, and i will never forget the feeling of rain against my face those days in April 1986.
—-
June 8, 2018
I remember the year of Chernobyl…discussing secondary containment after Circuit Training….
We had such a big downfall… and actually the first indication outside Soviet Union that something had happened came from Sweden…
Ah, OK… And you presumably know they had to build a new sarcophagus about a year or so ago…a mammoth structure
Your description is all the more immediate and chilling for being part of your personal experience, while mine was imaginative. Sometimes I am grateful for living in the southern hemisphere – out of the direct line of fire.
I can still feel the rain against my face…
To feel rain that you know is not as it should be – to wonder what the lasting effect will be – is truly scary. Repeating “the year of Chernobyl” certainly dramatizes …
Something i so much rememeber
How scary it must have been to witness nature dying around you. You convey that so well here.
Nature survived quite well… it was more that the everything became poisoned with downfall.
So sad, that black rain. The repetition works so well here drumming in the message of wrongness. I remember it too and thinking back to Hiroshima and wondering how the radioactivity would travel
Due to the weather at the time some parts of Sweden was more affected than other parts of Europe. The first indication outside Soviet was actually measurements at one of our Nuclear Powerplants … the strange thing was that it came from people entering the plant, not exiting…
Love descriptions, the last line having such punch.
And my country’s president would think all he would have to do was build a wall.
Gosh what a chilling poem. What did we learn indeed!