The plumes of smoke
Were not a hoax
Curling up towards the black sky
There was fire here not so long ago
And so much heat
If you listen carefully
The sounds still reach you
Crackling and splintering
Breaking and splitting
Pieces of wood glowing red then white from the heat
Crumbling and turning to ash
Everything turns black then red then white then grey
There are coals here that can burn tender feet
...
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