billowing plumes of combustible grasses
send  nuclear clouds into the stratosphere  
pillow columns stretch into the ether
and expand against the barometric pressure
of high elevation
sending tendrils of smoke sweeping across the evening sky –
near the fence stands a fireman covered in soot
in one hand a pail of water
with a spout
he looks as calm as if he were heading to the garden
gaily, it swings back and forth on a slight breeze
as the daydreaming fireman stands on the edge
of an inferno –
cars slow and passersby gawk at the spectacle
another season comes to pass
as the grass fields are burned
in the early August sunshine --