fire's gone now

humid air relieved in wash of heaven
to cool aching asphalt
by the tree

steam rose

it looked like steam, but may be fog
and the branches hang low
with the load they still hold
from a broken sky

why rain rather than days forever
heavy, humid, expectant
pregnant with maybe
despite their misery?

I now wonder why
I wasted this perfect summer
worrying over weeds
that will never die,
sip death from another cigarette

they'll dance in my ashes someday
my treasures of memories
grown the arrogance of a fool

fire's gone now.