This was my second entry on the theme of fire for the Burnaby Writers Society poetry contest. One more month until winners are announced. I played around with stanza parallelism here, sometimes using strict rhyme, sometimes consonance. I had never seen this done before, so I was impressed with how well it worked.
Okanagan Mountain Fire evacuation, August 2003
A crimson hill glows above.
High from here, grey clouded skies
shower us in ghosts of pine needles
that dissolve at my touch
into powdered ashes,
while I load the van with memories.
Glisten, fill, flow out of,
My father’s grave, clouded eyes.
Cowering and aghast in pain, he huddles
and revolves as he’s nudged,
While I lead the man, his tremors ease.
This poem was linked to the Poetry Potluck on the theme of history and events. If you are visiting…
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