A Poem on the Website of |
Raging Fire
Turtle shells and abandoned nests fallen from the trees, Drifts of ash, like dirty snow, bring me to my knees.
The garden scorched, the woodland torched, No song of bird, no cricket heard.
No leaf, no thatch, no underbrush, But Mother Nature whispers in the hush-
See my power in the brown and the black! As firemen fight her burning shroud back.
Nearby windows shatter, then split. House paint puckers as blistering flames lick.
Smoldering ash lifts into a cloudless sky, I sift charred memories and begin to cry.
An album lies in a crushed and broken desk, I stop to clutch it, then sit to rest.
I say to myself, push on, as I must. Tho' I am without harm, my possessions are dust.
I look to the heavens and give Thanks for the morrow. Pray for the rain, then give way to my sorrow. |
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