This is not whatever’s left.
This is a new world itself.
It may be less lovable—
It’s certainly scarred by loss.
But the scars didn’t exist
Before the fire. Now they do.
Ask anyone the era
That was the best,
And they’re likely to select
Something humans remember,
Somewhat altered by culture,
But prior to disaster—
Prior to which disaster
Doesn’t really much matter,
Just antediluvian,
In any case. Then it went
On its way, the world, until
It ripened into something
As antediluvian
As was before. This valley
That inhabitants now mourn
Was already burnt to stumps
Near the end of the boom years
Of mining, a century
And a couple of decades
Ago—old photos look grim,
Grimmer than this new patchwork
Of thickly forested green
Cut by swathes of blackish brown.
That first fire burned it all down.
Local school kids will be forced
To learn about the damage
Done by both historic fires,
Assuming there are school kids
Attending future classes
In the valley created
By that history, their worlds
Contingent on disasters
That made their worlds possible.
