Again fire destroys and
turns old family photos to ash to be
blown out to the sea of faded memories.
Home and hearth transformed from comfort and care
into a cot in a shelter.
That sense of belonging to a place, a community,
becomes a particle of despair dancing
on a morning breeze where once dandelion seeds floated.
I stand in front of my stove, cooking breakfast
and not understanding
what a thousand acre of fire means.
Eggs on the second shelf in the fridge,
bacon in the meat drawer, hash brown patties from the freezer.
Spatula in the drawer on the left, tongs for the bacon on the right.
Flame starts the bacon sizzling, how can that little blueness
reduce thousands of homes to memories?
The TV voice adds to the story, a church is gone,
history burned, and hundreds of thousands of
people on the move away from angry flames.
Breakfast conversation starts.
Yes, we should have a “go bag.”
Where are our passports, what we would do with
the cats if we had to flee on foot?
My heart aches to comprehend.
What could we do with just a wallet, cell phone
and a car full of cats?
—————-
and that’s what happened to an essay about the Southern California fires — it turned from fact to feeling. A thought about that sense of place and what happens when it’s gone, runs out of the mind and into the heart. I wonder, why them and not me?
Andrew's View of the Week 
I too cannot imagine about the fire raging across the land. Tsunamis and floods . Nature controls. Heartbreaking. You have expressed what we feel.
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It’s difficult to imagine. I’ve seen the aftermath of fire, but never seen it up close.
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Beautifully written….very impacting!
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Nicely done, Andrew. A beautifully written piece about an horribly ugly situation.
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Thank you.
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Andrew, your poem “As The Pizza Cooks” is a moving reflection on the fragility of normalcy when faced with overwhelming loss. It captures the tension between the safety of routine and the devastation of disaster with a poignancy that lingers. Your ability to blend personal details with collective tragedy creates a layered and deeply relatable perspective.
As someone who regularly reviews poetry from past and present, I shared your poem and my reflections here. Thank you for sharing this thoughtful piece—it’s a powerful reminder of how easily comfort can be disrupted and how deeply we feel the absence of place. I look forward to reading more of your work.
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Thank you for your kind words about my poem.
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Pingback: As The Pizza Cooks – Reviewed | Adam Fenner
Beautifully expressed, and I particularly identify with your question “why them and not me”. We’re surrounded by forest, and every summer we wonder, “Will it be us this time?”
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I think about that every time I read about a fire in my area.
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And we wait, for it to happen again. If not California, Greece, Australia…
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Nicely done Andrew
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I wonder how many reviewed their homeowner policy. Does it cover Acts of God? Fires? Am I protected???
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I know I do, every year.
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“… to be blown out to the sea of faded memories.” That tugs my heartstrings.
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and mine when I typed it.
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Thank you for finding some words for the feelings.
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Oh Andrew, this is so poignant. I’m watching the news of the fires with despair and anguish.
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Very poignant.
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The devastation is just heartbreaking.
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beautiful poem for a devastating situation 😞
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Yes. Thank you.
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