the ghostly galleons
arose through the fog and smoke
then silently glided north

with the occasional burst of fire
to help them rise
showing paying guests our town

far removed from the consuming fires
that have taken three lives
and more than a hundred and fifty homes

the fog is cool and misty
rising from our river
the smoke a choking blanket

an irritating symptom of those losses
with more heat on it’s way
drought ravages our resources

all available fire fighters
and their equipment
assisting property and folk

they say it thundered through
like a speeding train
no time to prepare or run

they hunkered down as
their homes burnt to the ground
looters already stealing

anything left as those people
grieve the loss of everything
wildlife livestock nothing untouched

they claim an Indian storm
was a precursor to our maelstrom
but we live in a country of violent

extremes flood fire and drought
we all know someone touched
but pray it won’t be us …

prayers please for all those suffering …

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