Dark Days

The dragon breathes out

Spits tongues crimson, tangerine, gold

Devours brittle bush

Black spumes spew forth

Demonic, hellish, apocalyptic

It is 2 am

 

The eye sees, the ear hears nothing

No power no phone no internet

 

Embers tossed high spat up like fire crackers

The dragon gorging morphing

Acrid smoke punctures lungs, curdling

Blackened leaves rain down

Strewn like seaweed along the sand

 

Preparation protection packing

Decision indecision

The little brown suitcase – quick!

Precious link to the past

Rattled minds raw hearts stunned

Huddling on beaches, backs to the water

Holding each other in the 2 pm dark

 

Plugged in again

Information double-edged

Too little

Some lost everything

Who?

Others spared

Stopped at the gate, took next door

Who, who?

Too much

Wildlife incinerated, forests blackened sticks

How to process so much loss

 

And yet… courage, community and hope

Exhausted fireys return to the fray

Helicopters hammer close by, scoop up water, taming the beast

Homes and pockets open

New shoots spring fluoro green, bright fuzz on scorched trees

A chicken lays its first egg

A wallaby, nursed back to health, returns each evening in thanks

A firey cradles water dragon eggs, from the rubble of a gutted home

 

© Rosie Toth March 2020