Forest Fire

I have a sooty,
little secret;
for some reason
unknown to me,
there exists
destruction
that I fancy.
Don’t get me wrong,
I do lament
blatant treason
on the forlorn trees,
but in case
they were in danger
I would not run to
tell the seas.
This doesn’t mean
you’d catch me
kerosene at hand,
a lit match
getting fanned,
staking out
the fire’s land
so that not one trunk
was left to stand…
No see, I love these
sturdy arbors,
gracing me with
each day’s breath!
But even more
I do admire
their slow and
painless, fuming death.
I am inspired
by the sultry sky,
the ardent mood,
and I desire
to stay sidelined
and let the fire
permeate,
roam and dine;
on fir and maple,
palm and pine,
on shrub and fern
and brush and vine!
This natural cleanse
that’s half malignant,
half benign.
The beautiful
nostalgia
laced within the smoke
giving me the most
delightful
little choke.
A smoggy sunrise,
glazed twice over-
hazy morning eyes
ride their ferry
down the lazy,
foggy river.
A familiar
subtle burn,
the scent left
on my clothes-
a sharp and
sedate smell
keeps my elated
nose up on its toes.
So bittersweet
and oh-so swell!
Not that the thought
of Florida burning
to ashes
ignites in me
yearning, churning
bubbles of glee…
not that I wouldn’t
replace every tree,
But the tingle
that I get when
the Earth begins
to kindle,
torching trees
like sticks in bindles.
When God is
toasting s’mores
over Daytona’s
scorching shores;
and the heat from
the sun’s core sparks a
pyrotechnic
show galore…
While in Georgia
it still pours,
here the heat
still makes her tours,
causing woodland
critters horror-
and the farmers
begging for no more!
The rain dancers
tread their motions,
summoning the oceans
to perform
their sacred cycle
and to storm and drop
their dewy votives.
But for me,
my evil motives
work against
their sought success;
I wish not
for hydration
to cease the
smoldering excess!
The only reason
I do hope
that there is any
flora left,
that this malicious,
flaming ritual
did not sear
each wealthy forest
and cast it into
field clear…
is because
I do fear
that there’d be
nothing left
to burn next year.

Advertisements