991 homes were burned into oblivion
On Thursday, December 30th, 2021.
The fire did not discriminate.
If the houses were beautifully kept
Or cluttered and in need of cleaning,
If the people inside were satisfied or sad,
Aching or afraid,
If the objects inside were artistic and treasured
Or used in a perfunctory way,
The fire simply destroyed them all.
The wind was relentless, gusting up to 115 mph.
That morning, I saw my neighbor’s
Garbage disappear in an instant
Into the sky.
It’s unsettling, even inside, to hear the wind
In such a restless, violent state.
We are powerless against such forces.
We know all forms will have an end.
But how can the disappearance
Be so quick and thorough?
When my mom died,
It seemed so heartless that her things
Outlasted her.
She gathered and cared for
Beautiful things
Like her mother before her.
I don’t think she knew,
I don’t think I knew,
That, at the end,
She was all I wanted.
—Dawn Kimble
Dawn Kimble lives in Boulder, and is enjoying her exploration of writing poetry.
