When we arrived
Another car was there
Strangers at the Lookout
We gathered together
And gazed at the hills
The burning, burning hills.
The smoke cloud over Kinglake
Sealed its fate,
I knew
After the first hellos
No one spoke again
Disaster does that
Words offer no comfort
The calamity before us
Stilled us in silence.
When we left the lookout
I could feel my sister’s grief
Her edginess to be elsewhere
Fighting for the home
We once knew
And still loved.
In that moment,
I realized
I had never stopped thinking
of Kinglake as home
Life calls me many things
But coming away from
The burning hills of my youth
I knew I was
And always would be
a Kinglaker.
