Scars Of A King's Fire

My friend and retired career firefighters Rick Bates of Cameron Park whose playground up Highway 50 until the advent of the ongoing King Fire had the burn area been, composed this poem about the fire.

The days are filled with stress and doubt
For firefighters have chased us out.
Our homes unsafe, we now must go
Can we return? We do not know.

Police say hurry, they cannot talk
But they'll be sure, your door to lock.
To leave so quickly, it does so chafe
But they all mean, to keep us safe.

We hear reports, we're filled with grief
We hear of things, beyond belief.
We rant, we rave, we wonder so
We want our homes, we love them so.

Now lightning crashes and thunder roars
We can't help pacing around these floors.
Firefighters are the ones that go
Into the storm, that they well know.

The sky now dark from all the smoke
We cannot breathe, it does so choke.
Firefighters do, what just they dare
Come home safely, our whispered prayer.

The trees, the plants, the animals keep
These are the losses, for these we weep.
We cry for JUSTICE, to soothe our pains
 The rocks themselves, show fiery stains.

The fire's cause, for this we've sought
A miscreant soul, who now is caught.
 He'll spend his life, in a concrete jail
 While we still hear, the forest's wail.

The forest may, be whole one day
When that will be, no one can say.
Of these foul days, one thing is good
For we are now, a neighborhood.

~ Rick Bates