Fires, L.A.

Ashes is bright Malibu,

Altadena’s palms,

black, naked, gravel

of bitter alms.

Roses devour

the monarch wood,

blown from Santa Ana

to a cold tide;

rags left

from brocades of towns,

tapestries of cities

burning down.

Katy’s house,

white against ash,

drops tears into

her outstretched hand.

Great dragons of fire

snake the night hills,

seeking their reflections

in abandoned swimming pools.

_____

Christopher Bernard is a poet, novelist and essayist living in San Francisco.