There is fire in the sky, the
green mountain frames a
landscape of contradiction.
Alert now, here there, birds
must fly behind the hot winds.
The sounds abound over the
landscape. It was 4:00 of a
June afternoon. You called
to stop my journey. The warmth
of a June afternoon lay like silt
on the place where we made love
only yesterday.
Goodbye to the birds and beasts
who sadly left home for the
last time.
I will remember the heat, the
touch, and the memory of
before ever you touched
my hair.
Caroline Shank
1.23.2023
Written for a contest with a plume of fire rising up