After the wildflowers bare their fragile faces,
Lacing the green meadows with mystic purples
And eruptive shades of pink and orange;
Before the autumn rains tumble from gray clouds
Scudding low in the skies
To soak the sun-crisped grasses;
Between those hospitable seasons
Comes the elemental scourge of fire.

Sparked by dry lighting or power lines gone rogue,
Incited by careless campers or purposeful arsonists,
Enraged by drought,
Enriched by woodlands and brush,
Feeding itself on homes and memories,
Thrushes’ nests and foxes’ dens,
Gasoline and gasping hearts,
Fire conspires with air
To loom and tower with stalking flame,
A tornado possessed of mindless menace,
A bounding  apocalyptic battalion,
Thundering through neighborhoods and parklands
Spreading their scalding scarlet capes,
Taking our breath away.

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