The Emptiness
Echoed.
All stood still and the chill.
Burnt like a dying ember
In the streets, the sound of feet.
Those days she’ll remember.
The rain mirrored her feelings.
and the shop seemed full of ghosts
the emptiness resounded
Echoes of her former hosts.
An ominous feeling
ran up her clammy back
her presence now was stealing
Through a thin and slender crack.
Sliding doors held secret boding.
who came before what happened since
her enigmatic coding
The possibilities made me wince.
Was she some inane object?
unidentifiable from the rest
since she’d gone
Or just another test.
The empty street and forlorn harbour
viewed from the sliding doors
held no vestige or trace
Of the now deserted stores.
Condensation tracked down the windows.
Not even a gull stood near the shore
time stopped, and her mind froze
all viewed behind the sliding door.
She held a melting flower
pictures from the past
Who will be left standing
And who will be last
Chornobyl is still dead and deserted.
radioactivity killed her kin
her life now cruelly subverted
Collateral damage is a mortal sin.
Sliding doors and nuclear damage
lives shattered, banged and vexed
by a power-hungry rampage
The question begged, who is next?
©
David Rudder
2022
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