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This is a poem I'd written a while ago when trees were burnt down near my house. I'd recently read 'The trees are down' by Charlotte Mew, and I guess the two together are what inspired this poem

The air fills with death
Your last sound, a crackle
An unfair fight with demons
With blazing hands of red

The air fills with white
The colour of purity
The colour of death
And you are both

Is it an honour
Or a pity instead
That death for you
Is unlike the human?

You will not be buried
Nor cremated with anguish
Nor ashes floated in holy water
But swept by the wind instead

You give them life
And they, you, death
Yet useless you die
In an unfair death