A photo of fire
Such a starry night
But cool
Mom and dad are so tired
They stare into a fire
That they built
Little boy and little girl
They stare too
School is over
The fire is a galaxy
The sparks are meteors
The coal makes caves
They are here
They put the trailer there
Why can't life be more like this?
Why is there peace
At this place?
Mom and dad have everything
They have it all right now
It is them
and near them
Health and youth
What's another glass of wine?
Wine?
In this place
It is nothing
The animal is asleep
It is content
It has what it wants
At home it is
Something.
A trigger
A bowl of fuel
An instigator
What would this man change
If he could see
What I saw?
Would his breath catch?
Would there be tears?
One day they don't return
To that place
The years quietly excuse
themselves
Where is your little girl?
She is gone
They know
But they won't say it
Where is your little boy?
He is shaking
He can't think about you
You miss him
But not as he is
Not like that
Another glass of wine
To help you dad?
To help you forget
When there were soldiers
And nothing to eat?
That's better
And mom, a glass for you?
A comforter
To help swallow your pills
And your past
So that you never see
that man standing
over your bed
Again?
If I could only appear
Out of the dark
And walk into the fire light
I would greet them
My mothers so beautiful
And my father is so young
I would plead
I would sit with them
And look into that fire
And explain
How it happens
And the things they did
She did her make up for you
That day you know?
For you!
To please you after work
Hair spray in the air
Her favourite blouse
I could see her eyes
Carefully painted
You came home
It wasn't long
The smile gone
Sent to my room
I could hear
How did you feel after dad?
That you tore the blouse
Hit her?
Green and brown bruises,
mascara on your knuckles
It always amazed you
How her love
For you
was murdered
Only to grow again
Like one of the bluebells
she wore that night for you
stretching toward you
for your approval
Her only longing
That fire is long out
The ash is gone
The watchers
Grown old
Gone from each other
I can't appear there
To warn them
That glowing photo
is the only gateway
If I had looked through
The rising flames
When I was there
When I was little
maybe I would have seen
my own desperate eyes
peering back to me
my creaking soul
limping closer
Yearning
to gather us up.
Standing on the other side
Calling through the
inferno.
This poem is about:
My family
Our world