One night,
as they stood outside their cave,
the stink of smoked leaves and
urine still choking their breath,
they had visions of mushroom clouds.

Terrified, they ran back in,
trampled over bison hides
covering snoring bodies,
grabbed all the stone tools,
and smashed each and every one.

Image credit:Vincent Foret

About the Author: Michael Acker lives in Vancouver, British Columbia. He has lived in various parts of the world; his early education was in German and French(Munich, Germany).  Mike enjoys writing short poetry, especially with the intent of exploring the possibilities latent in a single image.