Bushfires

• Tilly Ellis, Grade 5
• Poetry
• 2019

It started at the tree roots and up, it worked its way.
The fire was coming closer and I knew I could not stay.
This is my own place. The forest, where I live.
The fire is a monster, that I will never forgive.

The bright flames licked treetops. It danced around and around.
It burned the highest branches, And threw them to the ground.
The scent of burning wood. The blaze of orange flames.
The stories I have heard, Were not at all fun and games.

The heat was intense and deadly. The light was blinding and bright.
I had to get away somehow. I could not stay and fight.
My injured foot can't run. This used to be my home.
Is my life now over and done? Should I die, here all alone?

I’m slower than the fire. I’m not going to escape.
I’m surely going to die, from the fires burning cape.
Suddenly right in front of me, I saw a parting through the heat.
The fire made a gap for me. This is not the day I admit defeat.