picture: my own |
The sun a red ball
in clouds
filtering rust into
the light,
ash is falling like
snowflakes
dusting all in black
and white confetti,
acrid air scalds
the throat
bringing tears to
my eyes
both from smoke and
distress
of the destruction
burning
through once lush forests
and green vistas,
towards farmsteads
and homes,
we are helpless
against
the might of this fire
blazing along the
waters edge.
picture: my own |