When we went through the river valley
it was grey ground but shining
the air thick around us white,
and as we came up tree ghosts
and on one east tree
fire in the branches for a moving moment
becoming the misty red sun
and that fire was lovely to me.
And later I realised trees are on fire
not in valley mist but smoke and ash clouds
across Queensland, California, Amazonia
Two things for today:
Love, love my quiet hills and
Fight, fight, the fires of climate malady.
