Laughter of children playing, pushing each other on the swings and daring to go yet higher as the dogs bark and growl and chase each other about the yard.
Short grass turned brown by hot summer sun riding high in clear blue skies, a light breeze stirring the closeness of the air.
The smokey smell of the barbeque as another slab of raw meat is placed sizzling and spitting upon the searing hot metal of the grill. The man of the house prodding at the hot coals, the last vestige of his ancient role as hunter-gatherer, beer in one hand, tongs in the other as he banters with friends.
Not since the nuclear holocaust.
Incandescent flakes of ash
Fall on open graves