Saturday Afternoon

by Rob McKinnon

On Thursday afternoon
hot northerly winds fumed
from over scorched dry earth
crashing into the shed and the house
catching the back wire door slamming it shut.

Echoing throughout the stifling house
music played loudly from the backroom
to ease the apprehension of the approaching terror.

Currawongs and cockatoos left for somewhere safer
but noisy miners continued to squabble amongst themselves,
not far away fire hoses pointed at fire mountains.

During the night the sky glowed orange.

On Saturday afternoon
the remains of the buildings smouldered in piles of black char,
two surviving metal fence poles banged together in the wind
with a steady rhythm like clapsticks.

The breeze continued over rolled up burnt corrugated iron
making a low droning didgeridoo sound.
A lone squawking crow returned to inspect the ruin.

During the evening the crimson super moon rose.