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The Fire
August 20, 2015
Creeping tendrils drawing nearer;
The brilliant light becoming clearer.
Papers curling into dust;
Metal going red with rust.
Shadows lengthening on the wall;
Little baby starting to squall.
The roof crumbling; caving in,
As the whole world begins to spin.
You feel the heat getting hotter;
Reach for your crying daughter.
The smoke becomes omnipresent,
The flames flickering; iridescent.
Baby’s crying has now stopped;
Any hope long since dropped.
It’s on you now as you try to turn,
And slowly, slowly, begin to burn.
© Katherine A., San Antonio, TX
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