Something Missing in the State of the Union

Oh yes! That was it.

Well how are you all today? Thought I would start with a little conversational stuff. Now that is out of the way onto the serious things. Not that I can think of any.

A Bomb Going off While Counting Flowers

In a dull park, the bomb exploded while I counted flowers
and I thought that it was just unfair, to kill me then.
I flew with the petals, a shivering on the bomb's wind
to break upon the ground like light and other things.
I chose this moment to die, while counting flowers,
a horticultural exchange in the sunsetting air.
"Where am I going now?" I thought as the shock wave turned me,
span me like a smut in the smoke of a speeding train.
It came to me that trains are just controlled artillery,
driven shells to smash the buffers as a present to the enemy
and I knew my own dear bomb was one of these, a gift,
a pile of gunmetal, dull and shiny at the same time,
scraped safe in peacetime and then released in war.
"And just when did the peace end?" - came as a second thought,
proof of unended war from three thousand years before,
a train, a chariot, a bomb made smart with electronics;
they're all the same, three prongs to Neptune's armoury,
an arsenal made and stored and written to oblivion
by mad analysis of closer relatives and other broken minds.

I hit the ground, cushioned by the spring and leaves
that flew with me, a cloud of nature's debris,
and lived.
The sky cleared and bored its way to me through smoke,
a blue electric sky, filled with safer things than bombs,
Carbon poisons and the deadly rays of solar wind.
This is the sea and I was unhurt, lying in the sun,
tanning gently, sleeping maybe in the calm of beaches
while the sirens screamed and drew away from me,
to tell of other buildings falling, blown away
while counting flowers.

Not sure about that one. Where was all that hidden away. I am beginning to get concerned about the source of these poems and this one especially seems to have no structure or trigger. Actually, it does have a source. The words "The Bomb Going off While Counting Flowers" is in one of my lists of ideas on the Palm Pilot. I cannot place why I wrote that but it was there and it meant something then. It will come to me.