Tunguska Dawn

 

The day the false storm came

My brother Chekaren and I

Were asleep beside a campfire

The smell of burning wood drifted

Across our sleeping forms

When suddenly a thunderclap

Awoke us from deep sleep

And we saw the second sun

 

Blazing white heat tore our shirts

And made our skin hot to the touch

And all around we heard the sound

Of the second thunder and falling trees

I could taste the metal on my tongue

As the air cleaved with lightning

The branches fell and covered us

On the ground where we’d been thrown

 

These are the memories

That come back to me and haunt

The forests of my youth

The day in June of the white light

And the raging bolt of blue

That ripped a path across our path

when all the trees lay down

In supplication at Tungusca