At the end of January 2014, as the forest fires approached Melbourne, Australia, I was boarding a plane bound for Bali in the second stop in my travels around the world. I was leaving behind friends who were getting ready to evacuate. The air was thick and grey with smoke.
This is a small poem I wrote in my travel journal as I was flying away. I’m revisiting it now amidst a very bad forest fire season in Canada. I’m afraid it will be the new normal soon.
As the years go by it’s hard not to entertain this very dark thought : eventually, there will be nowhere to run to.
Fire, ash and smoke.
With metal wings I fly,
As your country burns.