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Expressions of Embers
As I biked through Westwood in the morning
With the breeze full of ash gusting in my face
I reach the melancholy evacuation center
Which made a graveyard look cheerful
Many families’ and pets’ faces full of sorrow and loss
Of hopes, dreams, and life savings
Whether mansion, apartment, or shack
Still a loss of home
As reporters run repeatedly from person to person
Trying to score an interview
Their lifeless faces stay as still as
statues
And from the corner of my eyes
I spot one of my friends
Face buried in hands
I ride away
Thinking this time
That time would not heal all wounds
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