Putting our Heads Together

Putting our Heads Together
I don't think he sees me

Monday, August 24, 2015

Waldo Redux

Haze, smoke from a thousand miles away
Covering our foot hills and mountains
Still populated by charred skeletal trees
Shrubs and grasses only just returning
Fires in Washington, Oregon, California
Their ghosts long preceding their deaths
Stirring memories from 2012 not yet resting
Eyes turning to scarred mountain landscapes
Hearts turning to scarred inner landscapes
Fire, fear, friends put out and fleeing
Dark days of raining ash in the fire’s reign
The sky a black roof of smoke
The sun a swollen red eye at its heart
The nights glowing unnaturally to the west
As if dragons slept there, breathing flame
Ready to rage, and burn, and feast
Dry acidic air stinging eyes and throat
Making lungs rasp and cough
Windows and doors shut tightly to fear
As if denial would win the moment
And in its smoldering wake
Nature reminds us of flames with water
Flash floods off naked hills
A crying land, a damaged people
Improvement slow but coming, and now
Haze, smoke from a thousand miles away