My house is on fire, they won’t let me in.

I trip over hoses, slip on snakes underfoot,

shoved back by masked men who pull me away.

I burst into tears: “Let me in, let me pass!”

Adrenalin surges, I lunge for a fireman’s axe.

I’d burn down to the bone for my wife and kids

but I’m hustled away; acrid smoke fills the air,

soot covers my face, cinders rain on my head.

The heat is intense as a funeral pyre,

an armada of sparks invades the sky.

A blazing dragon’s breath ravages the roof,

windows shatter like Kristalnacht’s ominous clatter,

walls are flocculent ash under ebonized stars.

Are bodies charred or collapsed on the floor

breathing a last breath?

Without them my body may stand

but my soul would be skinned and impaled.

Escorted away to a neighboring porch

a frazzled family waits frozen in shock.

We tremble together laughing and crying,

giddy with fright as we watch our house burn.