What We Lost in the Fire
a poem
My big sister died in a house fire and I've been afraid of fire ever since. I sometimes wonder if I'd find the courage to build a fire if I found myself lost in the wilderness. Then I remember that I don't know how to build a fire because I've always been too afraid to learn how to build a fire. God, I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire, I'm afraid of fire. I'm afraid of fire— the orange, the red, the yellow, the blue. I'm afraid of fire— the orange, the red, the yellow, the blue. I'm terrified of fire. Why aren't you?
That fire still burns in your memory and spirit. It fills the empty place that should be filled by your sister and her laughter. Some fires cool, but they never go out. Peace upon you, brother Sherman, and all the ghosts in your heart.
Guess you are not going to switch the tone of your work for the holidays? Thank you.
My neighbor who I had been helping due to his poor health killed himself last weekend and all I can think about is death. His, mine, everyone’s.
I am afraid of death.
Hope you don’t mind if I write my own poems inspired by your work?
This incantation seems like one of my tools to heal with just now.
I am afraid of death.
Your poems open me to more of myself and often give me a way out or in - to places which might have stayed hidden.
Hope your holidays are as good as you want them to be.
Peace.