W ritten by an 11-year-old in January 2020, this poem captures the experience of natural disaster: a bushfire in the rural region of the Bega Valley, Far South Coast, New South Wales.
It was grim and grey as newsprint.
It made the sky appear to be in flames.
It tricked poor wombats into stumbling around in the daytime,
It made us wear chemical smelling masks wherever we went.
It trapped us,
as if it were a metal cage.
It descended slowly,
It was the smoke,
the signature scent of last summer.
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