Mallacoota

Splayed colourful corpses, at rest against cold crust sand—

a beak of orange banksia, contrast to

twisting ash curling patterns for a graveyard

Fire smoke bursting Vesuvius outward

creating new fire in muscle fibres, get to water—get to air

            it burns: it burns

desperation pushing further

                                                            further

                                                lower

                                                lower

            a preferential jump from a burning building

A new fire rises.

This cannot be the end—

this smouldering home deserves the salve, the safe perch

it needs the bowls of water and seed the locals leave out hopeful in Mallacoota