Fire Poem

Fire Poem
A piece of paper

Drifted down

From the sky

Amidst the ash and dirt.

The paper was part of a dictionary.

It landed by the sanctuary door.

The words defined were




And so it was,

From the tempest to the temple

From the storm of fire to the sanctuary

And on the edge of the page

Partially charred

The word



Scattered over rooms and fields

The pieces of my life

Are not to be gathered

“Take your valuables,” they say.

They are scattered

They cannot be gathered.


Ceaseless roaming

Scattered memories

Can all of what I care about

Fit on this memory stick?

– Barbara Hirschfield