Dear editor,
I was compelled to write this in the middle of the night…
Standing timber – Standing tinder
It’s so hot, so hot and dry.
The forest trembles
as further down the island, ashes fly
The moon’s an orange
The whiff of smoke
The razor edge of fear
Is it just a matter of time
Till fire spreads up here?
If syllables were raindrops,
I’d spit them out till dawn,
Till streams and rivers swelled and rushed
From the mountains on and on
But I, like you, just wait and watch
While the danger grows each day
It’s tinder dry, timber dry
Rain come again we pray!
Kevin Flesher
Cumberland