The End is Nigh
by Alice Little
On Unit Four the thirteen stare
And, squinting in the sultry air,
They watch and wait
While in the sky
The starlings swirl, the aircraft fly:
Distractions, little heeded there.
The end is nigh. For years they’ve told
This warning to their doubtful fold
To no avail
For just thirteen have gathered here.
At half past two the clouds will part,
And chanting, hymns and prayers will start
To sound, while in the city’s squares
The unrepentant unawares
Will know their fate
And wish they were on Unit Four.
Alice Little is a writer of short and long fiction, and historical non-fiction. This is her first poetry publication. See alicelittle.co.uk/fiction for more information, and follow her on Instagram and Twitter @littleamiss.
Our Reader said:
Nothing could be more apt for the prompt than this piece. The end-of-world theme was popular, and this one stood out straightaway. Firstly, for the choice to format as a poem. Then, for conjuring up such a powerful image in so few words. ‘Unit Four’ was a brilliant handle on which to hang our sense of foreboding.