Back to: Surviving the Devil: A Song of Fire
Poem #7 from the ‘Surviving the Devil’ collection (unpublished)

it’s hard to fathom

every place on the road got burnt out
except ours

the kids
were asking me
if we were going to die
when we made a run for it through alien country
that I thought I knew
like the back of my hand

and up there
that wretched scrubby-looking shack
Mad Mick lived there
poor bastard

he topped himself a few weeks ago
and nobody’s gone near the place since
but it’s still standing
in one piece

I can’t work any of it out

© Frank Prem, 2010

To Poem #8: first bus to Marysville

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