The light
alerts me:
strange shadows
skitter across my pages.
“It’s a fire”
cries from outside.
There the shadow play
turns ominous.
Sooty clouds obscure
the sun’s face,
pass, are replaced.
Flames lick the blue
belly of the sky.
A homebody, walls and roof, burns.
Sirens screech red,
fill our street.
I stand at the edge
spectator of disaster.
Jump off; Find Wings 
I don’t know that there is anything more frightening than a fire in the neighborhood. When we lived in Pottsville there was one three houses up the street from us. The whole neighborhood was out and worried. Luckily it did not spread. Made fra a long day at school the next day.
The literal is horrific, and the metaphor is as well, for this fire, consuming life and property. So many fires in our lives destroy things silently with just as much trauma – relationships, families, lives. This is deep and thought provoking.
Your poem is so calm in conveying an unfolding drama; extraordinarily matter-of-fact. Each detail revealed in turn without haste, only increasing clarity.
“Flames lick the blue
belly of the sky.”
These lines struck me with the certainty of fire. This is a remarkable poem!
Thanks so much.
That last line was striking. Thanks for sharing the visual. Hope the flames went out, but continue to ignite more poetry!