©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
The wildfires burn fuel to ashes. I’m melted
and homeless. Adrift in the redwoods,
resilience is theirs, not my own.
I am starkly alone, washed out, waiting for
green growth to sprout. Lost, emotional,
swallowing hard, starkly following hope.
Woman-as-tree, dust, debris. Is there
recovery? The lines and the borders are
crumbling; senses obscured.
Artful thieves overwhelm; cheerful thieves offer
fine tunes and fabric. Violated by ribbons,
I sing lullabies to my child.
The home fires run wild.
If you relate to this poem, Light the Lamps might resonate with you as well.