The End of an Era by Ewart Richards

Swinging beneath rust coloured cranes
wire ropes with hooks and grabs pour
black gold into the bowels of
salt rusted ships.

Black dust rides the air covering shacks and sheds
and invading sandwiches and drinks
making men’s teeth grind.

The constant ringing of steel upon steel
competes with hissing steam as
boiler men and shipwrights
repair the Cardiff tramps.

At its height it was world renown,
We believed it would last forever,
But it was only a phase in time.
The industrial might that created it
has died.
A thousand communities silenced,
forgotten.

In the emaciated buildings the wind
plays its sombre tunes
to wild flowers, grasses and ghosts.