How the blackened dice falls
and tinder burns
bracken forlorn
this sticky sap curse
money with blood
destitute pets
and a deathly still air
after raging winds
oh love it's gone
the dice fell odd
none could've known
your summer spot
run Laurie fast
Jimmy hide in the bath
towels and blankets
long tightly charred
It's coming, it's rushing
too hot and quick
a thousand wild horses
passed over head
Rumbling lasts
months on end
seventh of Feb
again and again
again and again.
*Black Saturday destroyed 2,029 houses and killed 173 people. I had been in the Kinglake area a week before this tragic bushfire, everything seemed so dry and all the houses seemed so vulnerable to me.
This is such a sad poem. Confronting but good. Thanks.
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