screeches to a halt at Didcot.
The power station towers, like giant pots
have gone, blown up in just 10 seconds
dust drifting as if spirits,
a reminder that everything falls apart
and some must have watched with a heavy heart
as the ugly, beautiful towers
crashed down as if an earthquake.
I'm reminded of days long ago
and drunken weekends in Oxford town.
I used to pause and peer at the structures
as I waited for the connection train
yet now I'll never see them again.