decisions
four fires
in one day
in our county
today
I tell my son
of the first smoke plume I saw
years after moving here
none more seen for years
now there’s something new
in the weather forecast –
fire watch:
like tornados, but longer
more hot windy nervous weather
on the horizon
how many go bags
should we pack?
how far away is far enough?
how close is still safe?
what’s missing
I can see the wind waving the trees
but can’t hear it
the cabin walls tight
though not warm –
we need the crackle
of fire
my friend recounts evacuating
she needed her mother’s things most:
the inscribed book she gave her every birthday,
all the photos left of the two of them.
not having her mother, she needed what remained.
between the house and the car
the wind tore the stuffed animals
from her daughter’s arms,
sent them tumbling down the street –
just another loss that day,
another tribute claimed by wind.
storm wind
after weeks no months with barely a breath
the wind came rolling over in waves
blowing open the door
and rattling the poles
capturing my otherwise wandering attention
with such insistence I laid aside all other plans
and set to lashing things down
fumbled to light the candles
I had felt that barreling gust before,
knew it as the grief of men gone
