How can the sky
Be so beautiful
As it burns?
Watching over waves
Turned periwinkle,
Ever warming.
How can the horizon
Be this vibrant with smoke
And no one’s the wiser?
Or at least,
If they are,
They pay no mind.
They keep fishing,
They keep surfing.
Fires are a far thought.
The landscapes that make this state,
Engulfed,
Yet ignored.
Homes re-burned,
Lives uprooted twice.
But let’s go to the beach.
Where we can play in the sand
And forget
Our world is changing.
We can pretend
The haze is beautiful,
That we are not on fire.
