The Legacy

There’s a strange sense of pride living
in a town that once burned to the ground.
Ninety years ago now, there’s no one left 
who remembers the horrors
of the fire that devoured entire towns,
taking over two hundred lives
and trading their happy memories  
for the terrifying ones it left behind. 

My father remembered
the colour of the flames and the fear
in the animals’ eyes;
my grandfather remembered
the heat of the orange wind
as he fought to save his house
— and won,
and I remember listening in awe
until that fire burned itself
into my own memory. 

Nowadays the Great Fire 
is just words engraved on a plaque 
at the edge of a town the kids
can’t wait to grow up and get out of;
names carved on headstones 
of a cemetery no longer used;
and poetry written by a woman 
no one even knows.


september 2005
Janet Reid



After