IF ON THAT FIRST DAY
 
If on that first day
Of shock and awe
When we sat well back
In our armchairs, lit
The blue touch-paper;
 
If on that first hot day
As aqua-eyed Marines
Trespassed, watchful
On unfamiliar sand
A million miles from
Big Sur,
On a big blue day;
 
If on that first day
A grievous number
Had slapped us straight
Not crept, day by day
One by one, as slow
As a pitchers duel
That quells the crowd;
 
If on that first day
The nightly News
Had laid at our feet
Two thousand so brave
Suddenly fragile
And now no more
 
What then?  Surely, what then?

Michael Smith is a Brussel-based writer with work published in numerous UK poetry magazines. See his poem In A London Park During Wartime published on Axis of Logic earlier this year.