Smoke filling the air, making it hard to breathe

Thick and heavy, grey with desperation

I can almost smell the destroyed hopes and dreams from burning houses

~ ~

The sun, finally appearing, late in the day

Showing it’s one eye, bleary and blood shot, like after a hard night drinking

Or maybe a fight with sister moon

As it looks down on snow-like ash covering the ground – no calming cold there

~ ~

I can only hope for the return of the summer fog

To lay its blanket of peace on the raging fire

And quiet this too hot air

Like a mother’s kiss on feverish foreheads

So that we may find comfort and the will to wake up refreshed

With energy to start to rebuild again


Muse 08.27.20

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