The tale of how this story got its name

Canberra, April 1933, forty-seven years before the ’71 Flood.
Harriet swept all his books into a plastic bag,
Asked if anyone needed anything from the shops and
Set off under the cover of darkness.
Intending only to hide all his cherished possessions,
Nefarious inclinations seized her as she passed by the
Guy Fawkes bonfire.

Incinerating everything piece by piece over a seven hour period
Thrilled Harriet enormously. Observers tweeted
She had never felt so alive. #soalive #fou

Only hours earlier, seized by other nefarious inclinations,
Winston had hit the road, with only a well-thumbed On The Road
Nearly a dozen chocolate biscuits and Harriet’s summer dresses.

Thirty-five years later, I sit in a public library researching.
Across from me sits a petite woman, tearing brioche with her teeth.
I am reminded we need more disk space for the wedding photos.
Leaving hurriedly, I feel like I’ve probably forgotten something again.

//ends

>> month of poetry 2012