Wildfire arrests.
O how we wept
“O my child!”
as you hearken
to the flames
that crackle
and taste
our burning
crop, home, delft.
Our pyre confessed.
O we unslept
embittered whiles
in the darkened
clasp
of blaz-
ing Summer’s
shackle
that we placed
‘discerning’
on ourselves.
© Callum Featherstone