Wildfire

Gray skies gone red,
phones pinging with news,
they keep the car packed.
Clothes, papers, her grandma’s silver,
his old guitar, dog food, water, pictures
they thought they’d have time to scan.

They stay inside, wait, windows
a strange End Times hue. Hope.
until the evacuation call comes.
They cry as he props open gates
to give horses a chance, as she
lets hens out, leashes the dogs.

Tears tumble down ash-dusted faces,
soak into their masks. Ash made of pine,
black-tailed deer, salamander. Ash made
of books and homes. Ash ever-present
as grief. As they drive away, they breathe in
what’s lost.

© Laura Grace Weldon

Severe forest fires have increased eightfold in western US since 1985, study finds

Laura Grace Weldon has two poetry collections, Blackbird (Grayson 2019) and Tending (Aldrich 2013). She was 2019 Ohio Poet of the Year. Laura works as a book editor and lives on a small farm where she'd get more done if she didn't spend so much time reading library books, cooking weird things, and singing to livestock. lauragraceweldon.com.

Paradise is Burning

and the people in it are embers told by a wicked wind

too many gone to count                    can you count what is gone

said the wind to the flame

said the man to the neighbour

who lost his son when everything turned orange

            and even breath became tongues

            deep throating them

spell out       we will rise from the ashes    at vigil

for ashes

are ashes      and burnt things don’t rise    just crumble

it was a camp fire    said the start of the fire to the end

             but they could not find an end to the fire   kept burning

and californians hoped rain would come flatten

the flames in its wet spell      be a weather witch      a rain man

make a rain dance

saw it on a satellite map        so much red

eating up green                      a quarter less rain

           then                  some photographer found jesus in the ash

hotels booked for miles                                and kids still wearing same clothes

reach for                   smokeless clothes              from someone else’s back     in paradise

© Amy Louise Wyatt

Paradise Lost - A town destroyed by fire

Amy Louise Wyatt is a poet, lecturer and artist from Bangor, N.I. She has had work published in a range of literary journals and magazines such as The Honest Ulsterman, FourxFour, Dodging the Rain and Cold Coffee Stand. Amy has most recently read her poetry on The BBC Arts Show, at University of Ulster’s Riverside Readings and at festivals throughout Ireland . She is the editor of The Bangor Literary Journal and was shortlisted for the Seamus Heaney Award for New Writing 2018. amylouisewyatt.com

Believe Me

The President said,
wait a minute,
was it the President
or Governor Brown?
He was there after all.
But no, the President I think…
that we need to rake
the immigrant problem
from the ground,
clear it all out from the floor
like they do in Finland.
That was Finland, right?
Oh shit - that was the whole
forest fire thing that
happened in Pleasure!
What a name, right?
Not so pleasurable now, is it?
No, not Pleasure?
Paradise?
Ok, Paradise!
Well, same thing.
Anyway, it won’t ever
happen again so,
whatever.
He’s knows
what he’s talking about.

© Lianne Kamp

Trump Just Called Fire-Ravaged Town 'Pleasure' Instead Of Paradise By Accident

Trump Blames Forest Management For Wildfires Again During California Visit

Lianne Kamp resides in Boston, Massachusetts. Her poems and short stories appear in assorted print journals and on-line publications including: Poets Reading the News, Tuck Magazine, Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, Dime Show Review, Scarlet Leaf Review, Poetry Quarterly, Dual Coast Magazine, and a number of Prolific Press anthologies. She writes poetry to make her world-view more panoramic by examining it more closely.

Driving to the End of the World

Driving to the end of the world,

the end times approach

Driving through the smoke filled air

North of Mt Shasta,

heart of bigfoot country

End of the world images

fill my head with dismal

end of the world visions.

The apocalypse is upon us

The wicked evil as hell

blood red sun

leers at me with an evil grin

Screaming at me,

"what fools these mortals be"

Global climate change

is as real as the smoky fires

that burn and burn and burn

As our leaders turn turn turn away

They can’t handle the truth,

they will sacrifice all life on earth

So the oil and coal barons,

the so-called masters of the universe,

can make their obscene profits,

sending the rest of us to hell.

© Jake Aller

Carr Fire in California becomes 7th most destructive fire in state history

John ("Jake") Cosmos Aller is a retired US State Department diplomat currently residing in South Korea. He served in 10 countries in his 27-year career. Prior to his diplomatic service, he taught ESL, Asian Studies and Government in Korea, and served as a Peace Corps volunteer in Korea. He grew up in Berkeley, California and his poetry is heavily influenced by the Bay Area. For more "Jake" poetry, writings and political rants, check out https://thewordlaccordingtocosmos.com