Colors and Warnings

There is fire near me once again. The flames are on the other side of the hill I live at the base of by a creek. I felt them in my dreams all night. The air I breath is rough in my throat. It is scratchy and dry, like the feeling after crying too long, only more so. The road I drove home on Sunday from a wonderful day at the beach is closed now because it is burning.

This morning when I opened the curtains I was overwhelmed with gratitude as I saw that the sky is still blue here, the light is only coming from the sun, and the faces of my beloved ones have smiles. The trees outside are moving their sap towards the day and the tiny birds of the morning are singing. It is so wonderful to see and know all of these things.

I sit surrounded by the small quantity of things we packed last night in case we needed to leave and I write poems in acknowledgement of the power of Wildfire and weave a call for protection within their lines.

Yellow

like a stain

on a sweaty T-shirt

Brings dry eyes

and a scratching throat

 

Yellow

like caked clay

on the heel of my shoe

wipes away the blue

of the sky at noon

 

No big deal

It’s only a color

The sun is a disk of gold

 

Gray

like aging hair

left unwashed too long

brings s tight chest

and painful breath

 

Gray

like the dirt

at the edge of the road

brings ashes falling

black and white

 

No problem

we can just stay indoors

The sun is an orange parade

 

Black

like the smoking midnight

in a dangerous dream

brings masks

if you’re lucky

 

Black

rushing and filling

the space above

brings “get out now!”

and hope you drive fast

 

It’s OK

Give thanks we are safe

The sun is an eye of blood

 

Red

like the terrible dream

that gave birth to black

Red is hungry

it won’t give it back

 

Red

with brothers of orange

we hope not to meet you

Not tonight or tomorrow

because if we do

 

Goodbye

Eyes closed

The sun hides from your glare

 

You have

hunger

and a place here with the Land

 

Be full

Leave us

Go in peace, returning to Home

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