The day opens
like an oven mouth
and the heat
eats up the hours
as cherry leaves crisp
to brown locusts
and the day lilies shrivel
before breakfast.
On the hill above us after dark ,
the wildfires leap
like desperate angels
winging from tree to tree
their acrid breath
smoking
across the moon.
© Kathleen Jones
A very quick bit of description I wrote the other night, watching the wildfires blazing on the hills above us. The Scirocco has mercifully given up and the weather is cooler now the wind direction has turned to the north.
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