Would I dare believe they would contemplate

this cul de sac once more?

That I would be looking over my shoulder and listening on edge

for the sound of an alarm

and fear the general panic

of a population gripped in ice stone terror

and wondering just who

they would protect and survive.

 

Of course the idea the propagated

of hiding under doors is absurd,

it was only a practical way of burying the dead

and now they want us to learn D.I.Y. again

and the sales of non-perishables will soar.

Like lambs with closed eyes to the slaughter,

it would be easier to slit our throats

in the dark, quietly and with no mess;

let us sever any tied regrets.

 

The planes took off from Heyford

and I counted them all out

as I delivered the news in Bicester

on the sun filled early morning,

the Stranglers’ Big In America and No Mercy

dancing in my ears and

realising for the first time I was watching the news take place,

that if there was a following morning

I would be where I was now

and the circle would become infinite.

 

The starkness of that message,

where for too many a teenager

the end of the world was played out as

Frankie hit number one,

and to relax was an anathema of the times’ spirit

and in which is probably

why I have never given too much

concern to save for the future.

 

Then the Wall came down as Roger said it should

and life changed,

I was able to converse my fears in bars in New York

and the image of bombers

engines slicing through clouds overhead became a blur.

I never forgot

though what it meant

as I stood below the crisp blue Bicester sky

and now I fear those engines

are in sharp focus once more.

 

Ian D. Hall 2015