Foresta1 scoffed,
“the dragon doesn’t mind
that the forest floor is clear.
She soars upon a wind
that she exhales
and eats the canopy.”
Pfeiffer2 whispered,
“every dragon has a season
that only she foresees,”
and Santa Rosa3 cried,
“the dragon is hungry
more for suburbs than for trees.”
Montecito4 groaned,
”the dragon returns with the rains
in the form of crushing mud,”
and Paradise5 wept,
”the end of the world comes
riding on the iron steeds
of state-subsidized utilities.”
The fires of 2020 had no interest
in pandemics and plagues,
just an appetite for carbon
that knows no satisfaction.
And laughter thundered6 from the Sequoia groves,
howling, “nothing is immortal,”
and the titans of the mountains
fell by the thousands.
As for Eaton and Palisades,
there was nothing left to say.
The actuaries closed their books
and left the state.
A-Rock and Steamboat Fires, Yosemite National Park, August 1990.
Pfeiffer Fire, Big Sur, December 2013.
Tubbs Fire, Santa Rosa, October 2017.
Thomas Fire & Montecito Mudslides, December 2017 and January 2018.
Camp Fire, Paradise, November 2018.
Castle Fire, Tulare County, 2020.
My apologies for messing around with this poem after posting. I couldn't help myself.