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Lessons

fire on the eastern ridge:
a smoking line of ill-content
that drifts into our calm surrounds,
and manufactures dark portent.
the clarion call of sirens sound:
take to flight, or take to ground?
stay and fight, or watch and wait?
hunker down, or evacuate!
the dissolution of our state.
the flames lick from
tree to tree,
an animate ferocity
that heats the land
to such degrees, that
bring the strongest
to their knees
for as the world turns,
it burns.
respite beckons, in its time
when hunger’s spent and fuel declined,
affording glimpses through the tears
that realise our darkest fears:
sifting through what remains,
we are alive, but loss is pain
like the hard lessons we learn,
from watching our world burn.
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