And I Cry

Had a doctor’s appointment today.
When we left the house in our minivan,
The smoke from the Silver Fire was coming back in.
It was thick and choking out the sun.
Not a pretty sight to behold.

Ninety minutes after the appointment,
We loaded back up for our climb back into the mountains
And home.
The smoke had dropped down from up high.
It was like a puma that had pounced on its prey.
Smoke slithered among the trees.

We stopped at our mailbox on a post,
The smoke was stale on the air that crept in.
I watched bits of ash glide to the ground.
They seemed to make the fire in the distance
More real. More deadly. More final.
This fire should not be happening!

I became sad when we got in the house.
Had to close the windows to shut the smoke out.
I pondered the meaning of all this.
It had been so very dry.
Why does the Forest Service wait so long to act?
Do they not realize the damage that they have caused?

And I cry for the stately trees lost to the flames.
And I cry for the unique habitats destroyed by man’s ineptness.
And I cry for the terrified animals attempting to escape.
And I cry for the evacuated citizens shaken and fearful.
And I cry for the future generations who will never see the beauty that it once was.
And I cry for the hurting planet which works to heal itself no thanks to us.

2013 © Dawn L. Huffaker
All rights reserved.