The fires came through the other day,
blazing fierce, no warning given.
A careless spark, a flash of red,
and then it grew, by strong winds driven.
It jumped the road, it charred the land,
firefighters fought it, no houses lost.
But this was home to wildlife too;
in terms of them, who’ll count the cost?
After the Dean fire near Creswick, Victoria. Image courtesy of Gina Pestana
What the Smoke Says
This smoke floats
With light airy whispers:
‘Marshmallows,
‘Roast potatoes,
‘Billy tea,
‘Fun by the sea.’
It points to the sweetest one
Points at me.
This smoke floats
Heavy and dark,
It billows and bellows:
‘Crisped leaves
‘And crimson sun
‘Embers are falling,
‘Fire is burning,
‘I’m your alarm,’
It points with the wind,
Says: ‘Time to flee.’
Jessica said: I live on a bush property, so smoke always brings to mind either campfires or bushfires. I based this poem on my thoughts about the different messages smoke can give us.
Australian Children’s Poetry 