Fire Sky

The drought continues

even as leaves

speak of autumn.

 

Mining the land

speaks of leaves.

More trees are leaving,

felled forests of life.

 

We have become

the surface planet,

surface hard, brittle.

 

Imagine the jobs

to replant our patch

so that it becomes

the planet it was.

 

I digress: tonight

bush burning

turned the dusk

to fire

 

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