They Who Loved the Smell of Burning

On the second day they started in
Again, this time on the livestock,
And whatever they saw they killed,
And whatever they killed they left
Where it fell. On the third it rained
But the morning was clear, so they
Decided to take on the villagers.
First the newborn, then the old ones,
The ones who would remember.
They took them out into the field.
One shot to the back of the head.
On the fourth they woke early,
And by the time the sun was barely
Over the trees, they’d already
Started in, burning. They burned
The crops, the vineyards, then
Torched the forests. They burned
All that day and into the next.
They burned until there was no shade,
Nothing but smoking charcoal
And dead trees, then they erased
The maps and renamed the villages.
This one Cinder, this one Ash.