1666

  1666

Woken from sleep in the dead of night

Screams and cries ripping through the quiet

I gasped and saw a raw, orange light

Jumped up, took my blanket to cover my face:

Fire has taken over this place.

With one last look, I held my breath.

Thought "God if you exist" and made way for the exit.

After I had made it out, it was apparent 

No one else was around; their shouts could still

Be heard inside the flaming house.

As I tried to go back and help,

Thud, Thump; the roof just let-out.

Standing, shaking, my jaw dropped.

My family’s cries had just been stopped--

Only crackling fire made sound now.

Day after dreadful day

I replay it in my mind.

The pile of ashes reminding me

Of a world gone by a home, a wife & kids,

And a prized garden, now just blowing soot around 

This empty lot.

Ask the maker "ashes to ashes, dust to dust," 

Why not just leave us?

This year of our lord

Sixteen Hundred Sixty-Six.

**after reading Anne Bradstreet's "The Burning of our House"