Fire
the burning forests-
gaia’s tears turn to embers
borne off by the wind
–
peals of thunder-
rain falling
on a wild fire
the burning forests-
gaia’s tears turn to embers
borne off by the wind
–
peals of thunder-
rain falling
on a wild fire
picking at breakfast
sitting across the table
from the ghost of you
–
wilted flowers-
your whisper
in my ear
the day’s work is done
a blanket of fog settles
over bleaching bones
–
curling water-
the soft rattle
of empty shells
searching for a trace
of the light behind your eyes
but making my peace
–
afterimage-
the candle
doused
thoughts of the fallen-
those who purchased our freedoms
with their flesh and blood
–
old glory-
a red haze blinding
the dogs of war
wandering the earth
easing pain and suffering
collecting last breaths
–
a copse of trees-
bones
amid the litter
northern white cedars
defying all odds, clinging
to the bare cliff face
–
crying gulls-
hatchling turtles
race to the sea
shellshocked and bleeding-
wandering the husk of a
demolished building
–
floating ash-
Nothing left but
deafening silence
scrub trees, weeds and vines
she reasserts her claim on
the urban landscape
–
pottery shards-
new growth rooted
in broken asphalt
time draws to a close-
I hold his hand, helping him
walk across this bridge
–
a pale horse-
the onus
of these souls