I have literally cried for daze with wildfire smoke in my eyes. I pine for the daze where the earth on fire was largely a metaphor. This poem was delivered from purgatory.<\/p>\n
Mother Earth Riffed<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n
We live (sic) \nIn a whirled \nFar beyond just \nSmoke-filled rooms \nAnd ultimately kicking ash \nAs a pall \nOver running us \nLike a shroud \nTo no a veil \nBetween U.S. \nFecund nature \nAnd that forest upon us \nLike a smokey \nIn deep \nDeep south \nA wresting every fuel they can fine \nHow wood we \nRe-fuse \nOver and over \nKnow madder how much \nInfer no \nToo sum scorched earth palsy \nOr tinderly ax \nOur own \nCreation \nA ravaging beauty \nWhat prize \nFetching \nA lure to death \nOnly culpable \nOf saying \nWinsome lose sum \nAs we pay \nOur respects \nLike a funeral pie her in efface \nOr passing the buck \nIn the coarse of last rights \nA eulogy to such beauty \nHaving lost its weigh \nWhat\u2019s Mother Earth? \nSmokin\u2019<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"