They saw the fireball from space,
a bloom which blossomed death.
Round about for a dozen miles
it scattered glass and ash,
further out they heard the sound,
and also saw the flash.
But where we were,
time stood still.
Not still enough to stop the blast,
to let us live, to let us laugh,
as we had the day before
on Tianjin’s muddy and polluted shore
where a rusted wheel snagged your hook,
and we thought we’d caught a fish.
Now I hold you as we held the tyre,
with tears, no longer of joy,
and time stands still as I see a future,
of me alone, you gone.
I'm not sure whaat the inspiration for this was, and the reason for the explosion isn't explicit in the poem - it could be a tragic accident or it could be an attack.
text by stuartcturnbull. picture from [geralt](https://pixabay.com/illustrations/fireball-fire-explosion-flames-422746/) via Paxabay
