To Forget
We at table
talk –
to forget.
Muse over a morning
of banter and doings
of what we do –
To forget.
Pick up pages
of someone else’s
story, in a book,
escaping to….
Forget
The window hazy
The smoke entering
Open door
We remember.
Lest we forget –
The furrowed and frazzled brow
Of Firies*:
their boots
seared to the soles.
Sear not their souls
too much
we plead
as images roll in,
role in too,
as politicians posture.
The worn weariness
worn like a day’s drearies,
As its been months’ now
that our bush has burned.
But
We remember
The Firies
and those who
offer water
shelter
food and
their love
tapped away on keys
that carry updates.
We remember
sacrifices made
by volunteers
leaving homes,
some leaving
country,
at the call
of the crisis.
Children paddle
families to freedom
Sons bear medals
Meant for their Fathers
Under the smoky
Southern sun.
*Firies is a term of endearment for Firefighters.
Simon C.J. Falk 6 January 2020