As I sit here watching ash snow down on us from the fires all around Oregon, I am reminded of this poem I wrote 2 years ago. In 2015 we had maybe 1 or 2 days of this hazy weather, and we were so traumatized by it. Looking back, that was nothing. This poem sums it all up pretty well, though, I think.
End Times?
Orange half moon hangs in the sky
In the city
Smoke billows past my door
From wildfire miles away
The haze
Eerie
Feelings of helplessness pervade
The news talks of firefighters killed on duty
In the city
We think we are safe from the flames
But the smoke also damages
Lungs, eyes, noses of children and our elders
Brows furrowed with worry
We are compelled to be in it
Experience it
911 calls - " I smell smoke!"
Surreal
Years past
Nature blotted out the sun when a mountain blew
This manmade nature has set the land on fire
It seems that sunset lasts all day
The light is the wrong color
In the city
With a tear in my eye
And a lump in my throat
I realize
The Northwest is burning.
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