I don't want to write very much about the fires, there are already so many stories out there much more important than mine. My role was a very small one; as a member of the Mt Camel Brigade of the CFA, I joined a stike team to patrol the town of Wandong on Sunday night. It was already dark when we arrived and it was difficult to understand how much damage had been done. I wrote the following poem as we left the town via the Hume Hwy just before dawn.
Wandong early Monday 9/2/09
The predawn light
makes the white gum trunks
stand starkly from the dark
silhouette of leaves
and ground
Amongst them there are
houses
with only a slight
shift in their shape
no lights in the windows
The predawn tells
a kinder story than
the one we are going
to hear
because when dawn
breaks
the blackness remains
and the shapes don't
shift back
