Weather, Or Not
This hillside is burning, and so is my heart
With homes, and relationships, falling apart
The things we once cherished are those we now harm
As fire trucks, and consciences, sound their alarm
Our tree trunks, and dreams for the future, are charred
Reduced to a pile of ash in the yard
Was the culprit a toaster set too far to dark?
Or a boiling hot, spiced bagel of a remark?
30
08 2009
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This poem brought Mom and I to tears. If only they could quench the flames.