Threat
By Zach M
Published 12 September 2023
The threat changes when the wind changes.
Low, moderate,
Now high.
First sign, a flicker going nowhere,
Now a raging blaze.
Out the window, over the prominence,
it keeps throwing shards of itself forward.
I can feel the heat
- its anger -
closing in with the savageness of a Viking.
It has the sound of a thousand rioters.
Tears drop as tyres screech,
A blackened, parched house falls behind.
Swallowed up by the beast that races,
Chasing the transportation life-saver.
Through the grey mist that is arid, not damp; stinging, not nipping.
A swerve, a jerk, a gasp; a blackened body slumped on the side of the road makes tears.
Through the smog, a community safe haven.