Firestorm

Then she heard the sirens

outside her window.

She unplugged a headphone

and listened.

She knew there was

a storm rampaging outside.

Why sirens?

Everything was damp by this time,

after hours of intense rain.

She stood from the chair

and tasted the air. A bit

of the window was open.

Smoke, ashes, thunder and

rain caressed her tongue.

She looked out.

Fire was all across the

hills, threatening to climb up

to the mountain.

Rain fell, sharp and cold.

The thunder only seemed

to set the flames more alive.

She knew that fire was not

going to be stopped by

water, thus the sirens, useless.

They consumed everything,

swallowing rain and breath.

Escrito el 15/10/16