November 15, 2009
In the wind I hear flames
And from my back porch I can see stains;
Of yellows, of reds, of oranges,
Taking my garage’s place.
Now the grass burns too
My house will leave remains so few
When this fire is through
And so I run to the second floor
Knowing this fire will take the house and more
I throw valuables out the windows and out the door
And I hope that my happiness can be restored

My fear is so deep and the fire so near

But when I look out the window there is nothing there;
No flames to burn my little house down
No fire to bring ashes to the ground
No reason for my fear and stress
No justification for this last test

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