December sky
sifts through the charred forest—
over the phone
my brother and I
resurrect our ghosts
—The Bamboo Hut, vol 1, no. 2
This one was written in December 2011, three months after the second, and most destructive, set of wildfires of the year swept through our region. Flames were practically at our "back door," and we had to evacuate (right after we'd relocated there) for eight days. In this same time frame, one or two additional fires apparently were deliberately set at the front of our little community.
On a very different note:
H A P P Y N E W Y E A R !
Happy New Year!
ReplyDeleteMay the fires stay away. Beautiful poem.
Such a strong & unexpected line 5. Have a Happy & Safe New Year!
ReplyDeleteThanks, you two. There are specific back stories for this poem - both the top part and the bottom part. I hope my last line can somehow apply to readers' own stories.
DeleteLove how the remembrance of a turbulent time of wildfires is conjured forth and resurrected by a distinctive December sky. I can picture it in my mind's eye.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Wendy, for your wonderful comments to my rather bizarre little poem here. :-o
DeleteI don't think this is bizarre. I think it's awesome. Happy New Year, Janet!
ReplyDeletethanks, jennifer!
DeleteI recall that a long time ago, one person didn't like "sifts" for sky; another person didn't like "December" (because in her part of the world, December is sunny and bright). Etc. And Happy New Year to you!