The Divisional Scene Examiner arrived at 2:40 am.
The woman, as old as his mother, was face down—the heavy clock
had tumbled and crushed her while she was winding it up.
She had the same name. Rosemary.
She used to listen to Big Ben on the radio, when he was a child in Sydney.
He studied Medicine, then left for London—he arrived at 7:33 am.
He walked up Whitehall and, when he heard the chimes of Big Ben, cried.
(this poem is from the light user scheme)