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Recent Devestation
Black Saturday Fires

In the shed all the stools melted or burnt
Burnt out valley
Destroyed vines, poles and wires all melted

The Bushfire 7-2-2009

Hope


Burnt, scorched, black, ash, dead.
The countryside is no more
Only an acute sadness
Uninspiring, dismal landscape
Painful, mournful to be amongst
The trees, limbless, black sticks
The shed, the machines, tools all melted
Into a binding, black, blob.
Many kangaroos that sought refuge, to no avail
Singed, sickening, bloated, pungent, yet no flies
In the hard, dry, clay, earth
We buried them, with a tiny spade
Birds with beautiful colored feathers, lifeless
Dropped from the sky- we buried them.
Young kangaroos, hurt, confused, disorientated,
Lost from the herd, that no longer existed,
Looked to us with pleading eyes, to explain,
We could not, we too had much pain,
We shared our water and scoured for a green blade
To no avail, fodder from the city we ferried next day.
My loved vineyard, vines that carried the hope,
From across the sea from many generation,
Crafted and planted and replanted with love
Destroyed, melted, burnt and devastated.
We toiled for weeks watering, and removed
The melted netting, pipes and soot, to salvage,
Heart breaking, cleaning, clearing and pulling,
The dead burnt leaves, for little reward
Freighting precious water from the city
To bring life back into the scorched landscape,
Exhausted, futile, emotions of anger - tears.
To persevere, not to give up- one hears
Nature will rebound as it always has.
We mortals living in a glimpse of eternity
An insignificant grain of dust, want
For the duration of our brief encounter with life
That everything should remain the same.
The landscape will regenerate afresh
Time will heal all, new green foliage
The kangaroos will build a new herd.
Some vines will spring new shoots
The hard work to salvage and persevere
I found had its own reward!
The ability to give us hope.

Melted netting and burnt grapes
The smoldering timber poles three days after the fire
10 months later many vines have new growth and wire, the water drips are put back.
Maybe in two years there will be some grapes

 

Diana Ruzzene Grollo
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing by the publisher.



This page was last modified December 2016 AEST.