House Fire


What are we waiting for?

We put the fires out.

The winters coming soon

and we’re still mourning.

Too afraid to move,

or break the fitful silence?

Or are we just procrastinating,

avoiding the inevitable,

out of fear?


Suffice it to say

we’re gonna die here;

one way

or another.

Either crying in the ashes

of a fire,

or sobbing as we’re building

and dying somewhere new.

It doesn’t really matter,

but it seems like a waste

to hide the beauty of our life

under all this wreckage.


Time is the way

we will all



It doesn’t matter

how any of us live.


is where we meet

our angel,

and living

is where we earn

our wings.


So, let us lift our eyes

and start to clear

the burned up memories.

Board by board,

and mementos

of our past,



but not forgotten;


in the new things

we create.


Carry lumber

and swing a hammer.

Pour concrete

and cut to length.

A vision of the future,

sketched by the loss of the past.

Hang the doors and seat the windows,

lay the floor and run the wire.

Soon we will have a new life

in the place of the one we lost.


Love is stronger than our sorrow.

Faith, more constant than fire.

We will all pass from this earth,

but it is up to us how we will live in it.



HG – 2022

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