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26
Jul
2018
Water bombers roar low above the treetops.
Smoke billows black against the sky.
Flames flicker up trees.
Sirens wail.
Pack up --
Right now.
Fifteen minutes.
Don’t talk,
just do it.
Find suitcases.
How many days’ underwear will I need?
Categories: Poetry
Tags: Forest fires, evacuation orders