Only memories, but no-one to remember them

The sky was navy blue brocade
Entangled in cloud strands of grey
And once there bloomed the flowers of dawn
That gave their fragrance to each day,
While down the avenues and lanes
No noise of life, no people sound
Just rusted cars and broken glass
And old newspapers blown around.

And in the bay no ships at all
Just red rust at the dockside moored,
For all the good things man had shown
Only the bad had been uncured,
No birdsong where there once had been
Just feathered bones that told their tales
Of oceans filled with countless fish
Criss-crossed with wind filled flapping sails.


No whispering leaves, the trees were bare
Just sad unanswered echoes there,
Of hearts with arrows through the names
Of dreams gone dry in lifeless flames,
And up the streets no staring eyes
Just nameless unremembered sighs
That still return upon each dawn
To see if life is yet reborn.


Man has so much to answer for
A predator of tooth and claw
Who in his shame knew beauty too
Yet still his path was finally through,
And in an empty schoolyard  shed
Where laughter’s noise was long since dead,
Carved on a post still bright and clear
The epitaph, “Johnny was here…”