Smoke

Smoke From the Saga Island smoke rose. flames and rivers ran full of icy water; the modern Vikings had been beaten and shamed. Cold winter, summer roses are grey and leaves on trees have taken on an autumnal hue. Clouds of ashes drifting south day is night the world has lost it colour and cinemas only show black& white movies. East the smoke is black and smells of cordite and bulldozed buildings. Poor Palestine it is not a state, but a dream, which trashed people try to make into a reality. Moslems, Christians and righteous Jews, the world belongs to us, to have peace there must be fairness. Oops! Before my eyes another house is razed to the ground, dust is blinding me.