Fireside Stories
By Michelle Katz
My mind is distracted,
The winds rattle.
I am blown away.
I try to concentrate, try to focus.
There are yellow flowers blooming
Outside my window.
I pretend it’s a
Beautiful spring day.
But for the smoke that
Surrounds me. North-eastern
clouds smolder,
Western columns
rise from behind the mountains
The south, hazy.
Nighttime glows.
The wind rumbles
The forest down.
Fear, anger, grief, loss.
It grows, surrounds us
Rapidly, uncontrollable.
Despite our attempts,
We fall short of
The powerful flames.
The smell of burning pine.
I dream of campfire days
Along a riverside with
Friends. Telling stories.
The story today:
An elderly couple
Lost their home,
All they built through their lives.
Confounded and teary.
A family and their dog
Rack up hotel bills
They can never pay.
A shelter full of
Cots and sleepless
emergency workers
tending to bellies,
and hearts.
How do we know each other?
And ourselves?
How do we hold community
Around a 63,000-acer fire?
How do we make smores?
Where is the chocolate?
The marshmallows?
What stories can we truly tell?
Only memories are
loudly heard.
The sweetness rests
In tender looks.
Seeing each others’
Sorrow beyond simple
Vision. And holding one’s hand
For a just a little longer,
In a hopeful prayer
That the connection
Bring rain, not only
in the form of shared tears.