Piercy writes painfully and poignantly about the silent and slow death(s) from radiation exposure. In this nine stanza catalogue, she parades the incidents known or suspected to be the source of clusters of disease, disability and demise related to ignorant or irresponsible exposure of humans to nuclear testing and nuclear installations. She juxtaposes the beauties of nature, "The soft spring rain . . . " and the secret poisons with which man has contaminated her, ". . . blowing from the irradiated cloud." And, finally, she muses on the fact that we simply accept our symptoms instead of confronting our murderers.