Charred Burnt Tree

I remember that Sunday was a very bad day,
The risk of fires were coming our way,

We packed our things and left our place,

My parents concerns apon my face.

Two days later we returned back there,

To see devastation and smoke filled air,

The house was no more, only charred remains,

Our lives from then on would not be the same.
 

The tree out the back was as old as dad,

Scorched and burnt, it looked quite sad,

But it was tough and the roots still strong,

It will sprout with life before too long.

In the haze of death and fading of hope,

Dad got some wood and got some rope,

He made a swing and it was just for me,

In the shadow of the old and charred burnt tree.

Painting by Todd Young