Remembrance on approach to Derby Station.

 

It was less than I imagined

and more, as,

with ophidian stealth,   

we slipped closer …..closer still, 

 

and laughter died,

conversation ceased,      

telephones suspended, 

computers stood by. 

 

Just the steady tumbrel

like the thump and grumble

of distant ordnance;

the drumroll of execution. 

 

Trackside sentries   

in Guantanamo orange

looked without seeing – while, locked

in my own capsule of remembrance,

 

a silent tear

swelled,

spilled

and dropped.     

 

 

                                          11th November, 2008. 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements