Rows Of Eager Faces

Rows of eager faces
smile at me
from the front page
of the Age
this morning.
Friendly faces,
familiar faces.
Some old and crusty,
others,
terribly young.

Rows of eager faces
(too many of them)
are no longer with us.
They died
last Saturday –
suffocated
in their cars,
in their homes.
Swallowed by an inferno
that engulfed
without malice,
without warning.

Rows of eager faces,
are neatly folded now.
I can’t quite
bring myself
to throw them away.