Holocaust. <br /> <br /> <br />Iron pipes that pierce the skyline. <br />Concrete, white against the blue. <br />Office blocks, now cold and empty, <br />No sun-streaked glass to mar the view. <br /> <br /> <br />Empty eyes that gaze unseeing <br />On a vista stark and bare. <br />No dogs to foul the empty pavements. <br />No birdsong on the morning air. <br /> <br /> <br />In an alley filled with rubble, <br />A rust encrusted laundry van, <br />Filled with shrouds, no longer needed <br />By the creatures they called man. <br /> <br /> <br />But hope is born, for time must pass. <br />In reformed tarmac, a blade of grass.<br /><br />Irene C S ClarkHogg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/holocaust-8/
