You said I was like the mist
an intangible impermanent thing
destined to fade at sunrise
you are wrong I am, and have always been, the bomb
the cloud of nuclear smoke
ushering in winter
leaving the strong
I am the forest fire
I remake the world
blacked in fall
pale green in spring
I shape, I do not fade
but you wouldn't know
you couldn't feel fire
when it touched your soul.