An Open Letter To Chernobyl

I am a time traveller,

you are a Shakespearian tragedy

We shake hands and start the show


For now

we’re in your past

There are chipped teacups on the dinner table

and dusty cutlery in closed draws, weeds reach

through the windows for afternoon tea


You’re nature’s dollhouse –

grass grows like a toddler,

roots crawl

through cracked doors where

foxes play mummy and daddy in the living room


I was built to crash, like a meteor,

like Act Three

As soon as I walked upright I knew I would fall

It’s later now

We’re in my future, it looks like you


There’s orange stalking through tall grass

and toy soldiers on the floor

Nature has no bedtime –

no fences or doors

The plants get on with their game of Cat’s Cradle


It’s my curtain call,

I am time traveller at the Globe taking my final bow

You were my warning


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