Yan Sham-Shackleton

Outside the Sky is Red

Burning embers 

could fly at speed 

equal to the wind. 

Debris and dust 

drifts fast outside.

Neighbor texts me 

a photo from her 

child’s bedroom window.

Three pixelated 

globes of light

slide down the side 

of the canyon.

Smoke glowing 

orange ombré 

into pitch blackness.

Despite the lack of quality

they are no doubt flames. 

Our home drops 

into darkness. 

I show my son our earthquake kit

where the LED lamps and 

spare batteries are. 

“What do we do 

if it comes closer?”

he asks.

 

“I think we’re too far away. 

Don’t play on your 

phone to conserve power.” 

We go to restless sleep. 

Pungent particulate matter 

fill my lungs and 

wakes me as I cough. 

The haze obscures 

the moon 

into a soft crescent. 

The sky is graded red

from the mixture of 

ash and rising sunbeams.

Beautiful yet menacing. 

Compressing my fear 

so not to scare my child. 

I wake him to pack our bags.