WILD WOODS, WILD FIRES
Planted before nation
Planted before Calvin and Muslims and Caesar Augustus,
Planted by wind or chance,
Older than dirt
That holds them up.
"They're twenty-five miles away,"
The waitress says
Laying down our burgers and slaw.
"Somedays the smoke here's so thick
You have to put a hankie to your face."
And then she leaves to wait on others
As if burning forests
Were just one more way
To pass time with tourists.
You can tell, though,
--John H. Danner
(This poem originally appeared in the Island Sun)
A poem, and our prayers for the trees, the animals and the people
in the paths of the fires.