I’m not a poetry person, at least not normally, but I’m sitting here crying as I read this poem by Frank Prem. It’s about the Black Saturday fires that claimed 173 lives here in Victoria.
I was at home in Warrandyte that day. I’d sent the Offspring away, but I was at home with Dad and the animals because Dad had mild dementia and…I don’t think any of us really believed. I listened to 774 radio all day and some horrific reports were being phoned in, but we had the best roof sprinklers money could buy, and fire-resistant shutters. I was sure we’d be fine. And we didn’t really believe.
The next day, the reports started coming in and finally, we believed. That’s the background. Here is the poem that’s brought me to tears.
evidence to the commission of enquiry: all in the ark for a while
well
you have to go back
to the chaos of that time
back to february
as the day got on
we realised we were in strife
because the thing was bigger and hotter
and faster and more unpredictable
it was more everything really
and we’d started to get word of huge losses
in other places around and about
people
property
animals
whole towns
so we were head-down-and-bum-up
and worried
about what was going to happen next
anyway
out of the smoke came a sort of convoy
led by a horse whose halter was held
by a woman driving a ute
in the back of the ute
a dog was running around
like a mad thing
after that came another car
with a float and two more horses
next was a vehicle that a police fellow
was driving
he’d been up in a chopper
trying to winch people out
but the wind got too big
so he dropped down and helped
by driving the car
with whoever he could get into it
then there were a couple of deer
that jumped out of the bush
when the cavalcade went past a clearing
and a pair of koalas
and three kangaroos
and some lizards
all running as part of the convoy
they scattered pretty quick
when the procession of them
emerged from the smoke
and the flames
but it was all in together
for a while
It was ‘all in together’ for a while after Black Saturday too. We grieved, and donated food, and money, and hay because the animals were starving, and because we were alive and so many were not.
The love has disappeared now, but for a while we had it and I thank Frank Prem for helping me remember. Parts of this post will become my review on Amazon because this is my memory of the devil-wind.
Meeka's Mind 