by Dee Horne
Early morning.
No warning.
Fires fueled
by hurricane winds,
travel a mile a minute
leaving little
time to
escape
some to the sea
others to cars, soon left
behind
flames so hot
cars, buildings melt.
Trees, power lines
down
communication.
Food, shelter
found among friends,
lucky enough to be alive.
Displaced
no one can erase
images of burned bodies.
Frantic search
for loved ones.
Haunted by memories:
A man, incinerated.
Ruins of homes.
Businesses reduced to rubble.
Fires too fast to flee.
People carry on, go through
the motions,
in shock, and yet
the spirit of aloha remains.
Dee Horne is a creative writer. She has published over fifty poems in literary journals. She has also published several short stories and two non-fiction books.
She respectfully acknowledges the traditional unceded territories of the Coast Salish people and thanks the Snaw’naw’as and Qualicum First Nations for allowing her to live on their shared territories.