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Tuesday, 20 November 2018

Paradise is Burning

and the people in it are embers told by a wicked wind
too many gone to count                    can you count what is gone

said the wind to the flame
said the man to the neighbour
who lost his son when everything turned orange
            and even breath became tongues
            deep throating them

spell out       we will rise from the ashes    at vigil
for ashes
are ashes      and burnt things don’t rise    just crumble

it was a camp fire    said the start of the fire to the end
             but they could not find an end to the fire   kept burning
and californians hoped rain would come flatten

the flames in its wet spell      be a weather witch      a rain man
make a rain dance

saw it on a satellite map        so much red
eating up green                      a quarter less rain

           then                  some photographer found jesus in the ash

hotels booked for miles                                and kids still wearing same clothes
reach for                   smokeless clothes              from someone else’s back     in paradise

© Amy Louise Wyatt


Amy Louise Wyatt is a poet, lecturer and artist from Bangor, N.I. She has had work published in a range of literary journals and magazines such as The Honest Ulsterman, FourxFour, Dodging the Rain and Cold Coffee Stand. Amy has most recently read her poetry on The BBC Arts Show, at University of Ulster’s Riverside Readings and at festivals throughout Ireland . She is the editor of The Bangor Literary Journal and was shortlisted for the Seamus Heaney Award for New Writing 2018. amylouisewyatt.com

3 comments:

  1. Very touching. I don't know why the spacing works but it does. Is there a name for that kind of spacing in poetry? Is it a convention or something instinctive done as you write?

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  2. Fabulous, Amy. Also wondering about the spacing

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