Oakland after Fire
Tonight we're climbing the backside
of these familiar hills
hunched against the slant
of moonbeams. At the crest
we find the fireline that finally held.
Below, the slopes fall away
alien and smoky, as if the moon
had gutted the landscape.
Nothing stands
but chimneys stretching their shadows
across the soft
slow breathing of ash,
and black bones of eucalyptus
not even moonshine
makes fair.
~ Taylor Graham
appeared in Fire in the Hills (1992)