Poetry from Jerry Durick

Wildfires

We’ve all seen forest fires in movies

and on the evening news. Whole states

or provinces seem to catch fire and

burn on and on. Acres and acres going

up, animals scurrying away, people trying

to drive around, get away, and houses and

businesses gone in no time. Witnesses

always talk about the roar of the fire as

it turns the world around them into ash.

Didn’t Prometheus give us fire for this?

So it’s not just sloppy gods fooling with

us – an angry god full of lightning and

sorrow, or some redneck god flicking his

cigarette butt out of his chariot or not

putting out his sacrificial fire. No, now

we get to participate in all this fiery stuff

cigarette butts and campfires, and just

burning off the grass to get our season

going. This is the stuff of legends playing

out all around us. We cause ’em and then

get to put them out – from villain to hero

in a month of wildfires. Breathe in deeply

miles away and you know it’s there, filling

the air, this very real nightmare.


           Change in Climate

What does it mean when the weather

Becomes front page stuff and evening

News shows lead with it? All of a sudden

Politics and the economy and all wars

Take a backseat to what’s happening all

Around us, to us. Local news gives us

The full array of coverage – film of what’s

Happening, rivers raging, streets flooded

Tops of cars barely sticking out of water

Near to us, then there are reporters out

There becoming eye witnesses and then

Interviewing officials and folks flooded

Out of their homes, and of course there’s

The weather people giving us maps and

And statistics, how deep and for how long.

All of it seems unreal, Twilight Zone-ish –

Our familiar world turning upside down.

And we ask, what does it all mean? But

The answer has been with us for a while.

It means we’re not as safe as we thought.

It means there are consequences of our

Actions. We heard global warming and best

We could do was debate along political lines.

We heard about climate change and assumed

That later generations would have to worry.

We never thought it would be front page stuff

Or lead on TV news. We quietly assumed it

Would take care of itself.


           There From Here

“Road closed” and all of a sudden

That old one about not getting

There from here becomes new.

A sign goes up, a rope stretches

Across, sometimes they leave a guy

There to warn us. The TV or radio

Announces it, road or street closed

And advises us to avoid it. It’s hard

To imagine the gap or landslide or

Whatever that makes them close

It. The late news will give us scenes

Of the destruction – a gap where

That culvert washed out or that

Bridge that we crossed so often is

Now gone. A reporter will be there

In the hole or alongside the gap

With rushing water behind them as

They tell us the story of the closing.

The road we knew for so long is no

Longer part of our getting home or

To work. People on either side of

The gap wave to each other, take

Pictures and wonder aloud about

How and when they will get there

From here. We’ll talk bravely about

This after the road crews do their

Thing and fix the way for us, but

Right now the road is closed and

We must find another way to get

Wherever we think we are going.