the folk in blue have gone
the soundwaves of their sirens dopplering into wavery lowness - absent
their flashing lights diminishing into the darkness - absent
neither needed now
for those left behind little to mark the blues' passed presence
but a space-filled space where someone loved once stood
and some bits and plastic pieces swiftly discarded while they worked
fast but calm, with steady hands, but eyes that showed the strain
so those little plastic pieces now sit softly on the floor
silent markers of a struggle, silent tokens of an end
silent standards of the folk in blue
who bravely took a stand
it was no good (or was it?)
life flickered out
leaving just
this detritus
of despair
...