Aftermath

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A poem by Ursula Nixon

Aftermath

In February, a necessary drive to Canberra

meant first sight of bushfire destruction,

not having gone earlier to stickybeak and gape at ruins.

Out of Moruya, fire-blasted trees lining the road:

Ochre, orange, starkly black.

And where dense forest used to be

charred remains revealing houses never seen before;

amazement that they had survived.

The surprise near Mogo

of fresh green shoots thrusting through ash

lying in thick deposits under trees.

Mogo itself and incredulity.

How could half the village be unharmed?

Then, what was a church, become art gallery,

now a twisted pile of rubble.

Over the road a line of tangled tin and timber

where Roman Leather, Merchant of Mogo

and the business selling flags

once traded well.

Batemans and familiar stores burnt out;

the cemetery untouched.

Clearly safe haven in a fire is to be underground.

On up the Clyde:

mile upon mile of wounded landscape,

lush vegetation replaced by skeletons and cinders.

Sharp understanding it will take not months

but long hard decades to heal this shattered land.

A heavy-hearted drive, passing through

what felt like nature’s vengeance

for all the years of human exploitation.

Tears for dead wildlife and distraught survivors

seeking food from baked and barren ground.

Heartache for the young fox glimpsed near Braidwood;

ribby, coat dulled, so desperate to eat

that daylight hunting was necessity.

Tears for the firies, losing life and risking health

in fighting a monstrous conflagration.

Yet, seeing in the ravages,

that on wrecked tree trunks

young leaves were sprouting,

spiraling upwards on charred bark;

tree ferns and burrawangs

were putting on fresh green.

Nature rejuvenating, as she will –

but oh the sorrow of our negligence and folly.

Ursula Nixon, a Bodalla resident, grew up in the Scottish border region and remembers listening to her father and grandmother reciting border ballads. Her grandmother was passionate about the poet Henry Longfellow and used to read Hiawatha to her. At primary school Ursula liked learning poetry by heart and began writing her own poems.

Ursula has taken part in poetry festivals, poetry slams, been published in Yellow Moon, Redoubt, by Outposts Press and has a selection of poems forthcoming from Ginninderra Press.