Conflagration

By Vincent R. Pozon

I was roused from sleep that night,
an awakening that was
like the jab of a nightmare.

With heart pounding, I wobbled
toward the door, then I stopped—
the commotion was outside.

Cautious now, I creaked it
open and sirens rushed in.
Barefoot on spiky, wet grass,

I reached the fence and tiptoed,
I felt the heat on my face
saw the skyline set aflame.

America is burning.