The light fell early, into the long dark of the night.
Sitting on the red brick wall, he wondered could they be right.
The biddy’s he heard in the post room that day,
was he to be called, would he have to go, was his letter on its way?
Later the sirens whaled, and fell in the flames and ashes.
Awaiting the sound that says “it’s all over,” and ends the bangs and crashes.
His heart beat fast with terror, to think of them being so near.
Then it came, his spirits lifted, the long awaited all clear.
Hundreds of people emerged from cover, like ants breaking the ground,
grief glowing in their eyes, air thick with dust, they began to look around.
He looked on what was left of his thinking spot, red brick all crumbled and flat
He wiped the feelings away from his eyes, accepted that was that.
He looked beyond the flattened wall, and made out a big red bag,
words failed him, his blood ran cold and his jaw began to sag.
He knew then, in a silent pause, of the news the bag contained,
he planted his feet, kept a stiff upper lip and tried to be restrained.
He tried for his mother
for her and no other.
He could not bear to see her cry,
And so kept his fear from his eye.
The sun was cold on his loaded back, though it was a lovely autumn day.
The air was silent; his heart was heavy, as the white cliffs faded away.