Side by side the silent vehicles wait -
anticipate the bitter light of day.
Miles away, beside a buckled track
the fragments of a hundred shattered lives
are solemnly retrieved, and sealed away.
Mobile 'phones bleat weakly as they fade.
Like sparks the digits flicker, dimly flash.
So many words forever left unsaid
are trapped in time amidst the smoking wreckage
as men in white sift mutely through the ash.
Racing home to light the birthday candles;
Feeling a new life inside take root;
Hoping that this love will last forever;
A swirl of dreams cascade inside the carriage
and scatter like confetti underfoot.
One by one, as arc-lights damp the darkness,
illuminated tableaux are revealed -
candles lend their warmth to fading flowers
and light the way for pilgrims paying homage
at altars of moquette and crumpled steel.
If you've any comments on this poem, Carole Houston would be
pleased to hear from you.