Sally Clark poetry: Flowers After a Wildfire

 

There, look, see –
in the place where the wind
blew the brush fire through,
the summer pasture burned
every blade of quiet grass, cremated
every ground-hugging insect, chased
every feral rabbit toward
the safety of the wet creek;

the wildflowers are blooming,
bright sky bluebonnets,
red-orange flames of Indian paintbrushes,
tiny yellow-sunned coreopsis, thicker here
than any part of the unscarred field,
a phoenix of color lifting from the ashes,
a benediction rising from the flames.

 

 

Author’s Notes: This poem was first published in Weavings: A Journal of the Christian Spiritual Life, published by The Upper Room, in their “Resilience” issue, in 2012.

 

It was published again in the anthology, Stones Before the Ocean, published by Hewson Books, in 2016.

Sally Clark

Sally Clark

Sally Clark and her husband, Mike, owned the Auslander Restaurant in Fredericksburg, Texas, from 1985 to 2001. Since retirement, Sally has been writing poems like clear pools, the kind where you can see all the way to the mossy rocks on the bottom. She writes about simple things like laundry and yellow highlighters, huge things like the trials of Job and the sins of Abraham, funny things like ice cream and penguins and Halloween, and scary things like heaven and hell and the color of dirt. Her award-winning poetry has been widely published in books, anthologies, magazines, gift books, and online. In 2017, her poem, "Los Compadres," was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

Sally's first publication for children is "Where's My Hug?" a lift-the-flap board book published by WorthyKids/Ideals. Buy it for a child you love.
Sally Clark

Leave a Reply