fire in the trailer park

fire in the trailer park anger could be felt in the heat waves, rolledby dangerously stiff breezes. her tough-guy grandsons stood across the street in front of their own home, eyes wide with disbelief, vulnerable this once, as her modest dwelling morphed into ashen silhouettes, shrouded by flame licked, smoke stained metal. a skeleton of a life, barely stands within a squandered metal chassis, twisted and unsalvageable, gobbled within minutes by the flash. they saved the dogs and her old car. a plastic playhouse stood beside the hottest spot in the entire burning sadness, without so much as a melt mark. yet, the little that was hers, gone. now she lives with them, they owe her anyway; she keeps their sorry family together, something they are too young to yet appreciate, as dad drinks their lives away with his own. jail, his second home, on weekends makes more room for grandma, her sister and their mother, to whom she also provides whatever is needed of her own little bit. it is a crowded house; in the small space they now occupy, two dogs, three adult women, three children and a part time boarder, the drunk. and still, time moves onward. how, do you suppose, she drags her ass out of bed, each morning? 03-27-11 ©tlp 2011