Amelia Van Donsel

August Complex Fire

Until he coaxes 

the breath, the 

not beloved, away, I am 

wanting, holding his blood in my arms. 

And I read on 

the venomous periphery of California, where 

my father dies and dies, flattening 

out his forehead until it is a 

penny. 

What does he weigh, East Bay 

Hills, Globe Rock? His weight is smoke. 

Copper coils around his house, 

and the sleeve and beard are similar and frightened by their own edges. 

The blaze progresses 

against him as though his living 

were scratched into the heat 

of his sweaters, casting only 

their poor muslin shadows.


Amelia Van Donsel is a poet from Waltham, Massachusetts and a 2021 graduate of Bard College. She has spent this past year working with poets Jenny Xie and Ann Lauterbach to complete her collection PLEASE STAND BACK. Her most recent work can be found in FENCE.