Beneath the Surface

Beneath the surface

a firefighter reflects,

even cries.

They did it — they didn’t let the fire

spread beyond 101.

They were not going to repeat

what happened two years ago.

They were not going to

let this one kill more people and

burn thousands of homes.

Beneath the surface

even though 77,000 acres burned,

they succeeded.

Beneath the surface

the new CEO of PG&E gets a

2.5 million dollar salary.

What if that money went to

update equipment, poles,

put wires underground?

Beneath the surface we pay our 

electric bill by flashlight.

Beneath the surface

no matter how many households

had their electricity shut off

a single jumper on a tower broke

and set off a spark
that seems to have started it all.

Beneath the surface

I’m exhausted from carrying around 

all my valuables in and out of my car

for four days.

Bad air still hurts my lungs,

I had to cancel my class and now

I’m in bed with a cold.

I blew a fuse last night.

Did they turn our power off again?

No, I still see light in the next room,

but how that thought sent panic

through my body.

Above the surface

we’ll get past this one. 

Friends will help friends

and life will go on.

But beneath the surface

we are living powerless to the wind,

in fear of flames

and always knowing what we will pack

the next time around.