After three weeks of suffocation, we raked
the lawn clean of debris; with hoses we flooded
gutters stuffed with rags; after
the twentieth time fire trucks filled up
at our main, the fireball rainbowed
like a mid-afternoon sunset; we gathered
in the village hall, the brigade’s trucks
surrounded us; after sparks stopped flying
over our backyard trees, the trees
from Balmoral to Buxton stood charred; after
we drove through the sunless apocalypse, walked
the fire’s wake in that shut out light,
the terrain now monochrome, the razed home
still smoking, I could not photograph.
Wildfire
Rachel White(she/her) is an American-born poet and artist who lives and works on Kaurna land in South Australia. Her poetry has been featured in Kissing Dynamite, placed highly commended in the 2022 Woorilla Poetry Prize, and has been nominated for Best Microfiction 2024. Her work appears or is forthcoming in The Shore, Lunch Ticket’s Amuse Bouche, Rogue Agent, Third Wednesday Magazine, Anti-Heroin Chic, Amethyst Review and Porcupine Lit. You can find Rachel on Instagram @rachelwhite.studio.