Today’s choice

Previous poems

Phil Vernon

 

 

 

After the forest fire

Because we were four
and I only had strength to carry one
and knew no other way
I carried the one who called out loudest;
threatened us most.

You two were left to walk behind
in the dust of hot, dry summer and
the heavy mud of winter and spring.
Perhaps I thought you’d learn the land –
more likely, I just hoped we’d be OK.

That morning found us silent, slumped
among the charred remains of trees.
The flames, too, were spent after such a night.
But the undersoil still burned, untraceably,
towards where uncharred trees remained.

 

 

Phil Vernon’s third full collection is Guerrilla Country (Flight of the Dragonfly Press, 2024). He lives in Kent. www.philvernon.net