BANG!!!!!
Eyes up.
Three metres dead ahead.
The top of the double-decker fills
with opaque white smoke
and the roof peels back
Like a sardine can.
Somehow knowing.
Breath sucked from my chest
Running,
dodging falling tin and ….?
Then.
Nothing.
Silence.
Confusion.
Terror.
Death……
and then quietly, unapologetically… birdsong
Life.
jpm
50 words for 50 countries 
Bloody Hell – clear as a bell!!!
So moving, Jules. I also felt a paradoxical nostalgia because I always associate it with the happy holiday at Dulverton. I’ll never stop thinking that you were brave that day, and afterwards.
You know Sally – I will never forget your quiet compassion and presence when we went for that gorgeous walk around Dulverton, and I was able to talk about what had happened and how I felt. I am not sure I have ever thanked you for that.
Were you really there?
HI Carol – yes, I was – right in front of the bus which blew up. The poem is exactly my experience of the bus bomb on that day. The silence in the square was as deafening as the bomb had been moments before – I am not sure how long it was before I noticed the birds in the Gardens had started singing again.
[…] (about 50 words long) for each of 50 countries she has visited. Such a terrific concept! Read “England (London 7/7/05)”, a poem presenting a harrowing glimpse of the London suicide […]