Monday, August 31, 2009

Fire
























The Fire

A fiery ripple grew and grew
Across the mountainside.
On windy gusts small embers blew
And rode an airy slide.

My mountain burned, engulfed in red;
The dry brush fed its rage.
All animals and people fled;
For this thief there's no cage.

The mossy beds and lofty trees
Were left dead in its wake.
I only hope that Heaven sees
And damns this fiery lake.

Some men who took a stand have died;
Still quiv'ring is my lip.
Remember all the men who tried
To stop this monster's trip.

2 comments:

  1. You're back! Yes, this fire is a monstrous thief. So sad. How can you breathe??
    Nam

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  2. "The mossy beds and lofty trees
    Were left dead in its wake.
    I only hope that Heaven sees
    And damns this fiery lake."

    YES. Love it.

    ReplyDelete