One Week Later – a poem by Claire Saxby
The smoke has spread now and covers the whole city –
all the way from the still-smouldering hills
to my seaclose home.
I welcome the smoke, inhale it
taste what the televisionsradiopapers feed,
seek to share some tiny association
with those who have lost everything and more.
It’s not possible. I know that
and the page 5 piece from the survivor of another fire
makes sure I don’t forget it – her no longer numb-or-dumb anger
spills forth to damn me and all my neighbours.
Newspapers and radio
people the wasteland with details
of near-deaths and near-escapes.
It clears the air and any connection
I may, for a second, have imagined.
There is no link
I have my home, my family, my neighbours.
I close my eyes and breathe the smoke one last time
before the lifeheavy breeze carries it away
Sally Murphy, verse book author, invited Claire to talk about poetry at her blog. There’s a month worth of poetry and thoughts about poetry over there. Worth a look.
