wild violets in the forest
colored like a friendship’s dream
could not be like the morning glories
yearning for sun’s golden beams

they live softly, close to earth
they are fragile, in confession
but no less vivid in their shade
or indeed in their expression

a sky that brims with thunderclouds
and air that’s thick with promised things
a front that’s coming from the south
the color of a pigeon’s wings

the creek is swelled, with rushing sounds
with foam and dirt and strength of will
and speedy driftwood drifting down
as lowlands quickly start to fill

at length the pounding water slows
and winds that howled are tamed to ease
the air is honeyed as with cloves
from petrichor and linen leaves

the clouds relinquish briny hues
and let themselves be taken white
the sky demands its tenant’s dues
and overcomes with shining light

honeysuckle by the trees
white and gold and goldenrod
little leaves and buzzy bees
warmth and winds are tall and broad

summer very soon to be
rustling winds and racing clouds
air festooned with blossoms free
how I wish for summer now

Red, scarlet, crimson, vermillion
Orange
White
Black

Consuming all beloved and leaving only ash

Crackle, huff, roar, bellow
Pop!
Sizzle
Hiss

Destroying all memories for to fondly reminisce

Singe, burn, blister, blast
Cough
Smoke
Light

This unchecked monster eating, dying, leaving with a bite