Tourist time, weather fine, happily they dine, I clean the dishes.
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Got my pay, four days away, my friend to stay, with his misses.
Sound night's sleep, I well keep, my clean sheets, I lay under.
New-year's eve, twenty-nineteen, I awake to the sound of thunder.
I think, 'Hey, here comes the rain', but nay, realise then,
As dark ash flies from the skies, like I'd never seen when,
I lived in the city, now as profound pity, sounds over the radio,
As I do hear of that dear, old town of Cobargo.
Burnt down to the ground as an eerie sun rose.
Turns out it's a bout like nobody knows.
A wall of destruction claiming life and moving near.
Some fight, some go directed, but all subjected to the fear.
Power down across the town, no phone nor internet,
Refugees flee north, stay near the port, of the Wagonga inlet.
Fleeing great fire, other souls don't retire, no not that day,
Some lost the lot, their homes and stock, battle as they may.
Fight tree high flames, as strong winds came from the south,
As mixed news brings confusion, spread by word of mouth.
Flames never came to Narooma that night with power not restored,
A sleepless night by candle light, the threat could not be ignored.
From soot and ashes, grows compassion, a strong caring bond.
People volunteer, set aside careers, diligently they respond.
Saw all were well feed and planned ahead, put resources into place.
For this bushfire season, for whatever reason, is an exceptional case.
The only way to know, which way the fire might go,
Was by listening to my hand-held radio.
It was hard to begin, as I listened in, to fathom the magnitude.
Thousands left in limbo, not knowing when it will conclude.
Shops opened but were soon empty, the servo's ran dry.
The latest advice, they got from their devices was to give it a try.
To go back to Canberra, we can clear the Snowy Highway.
And so they did, but did not let in, supplies we needed to stay.
Help came from all corners, in the form of manpower and funds.
The support somewhat assuring, though this fight was far from won.
Stories over the wireless, farmers fighting, dodging death.
Others owing their lives to the gallant efforts of the RFS.
Countless wildlife losses, lifeless land once green.
One can't start, without a sunken heart, to comprehend what a year it's been.
Two weeks past, still fires last, slowed with winds abating.
I think we'll be right now, we have the Firies awaiting.
Gavin Alexander -
16/01/2020