and the icy cold increased its bite
when the letter of closure was read
to the blank faces of unexpected fear.
Silence has hit the streets
at the wake up time in the morning.
The roar of engines warming up
have been shut off.
The only sounds are the cow pastures
on the outskirts of the west side of town.
Inside the homes, faces are stressed,
staring off into the distance,
coming to grips of the last pay cheque.
trying to save money in their heads
while deciding what to sell
and what can stay
just to keep the lights on.
The old factory is greying
in its closed, skeleton state.
The carrier trains have even stopped.
All a symbol of the dark clouds of yesterday
hanging over this old, potash town.
February 4, 2016
© Andrew Scott - Just a Maritime Boy 2016