Sonoma’s fast hot fire leaves nothing
but husks of washers & dryers, skeletons
of cars, exploded glass, landscaping
flattened to ash, October grapes gone.
Burned are wineries, homes of the wealthy,
neighborhoods built on native geography
where fires are part of the natural order
— oil-filled brush, lack of water.
Just as easily the fires could be here,
the stadiums full & our family, nothing
but phones & laptops & pets complaining
jammed onto ships in Oakland Harbor.
Losses more than insurance can bear.
Who can breathe the smut-filled air?
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