August 2013

  • snapshot poem 19 august 02013

      Ashes fall from a hot,   clear sky. Bear Mountain burns, and we taste it. The only smell is forest- on-fire. Another neighborhood is evacuated. Police, hazmat, and federal agents search for explosives. These stories are unrelated. This is a small town. Strangers nod when they pass on the street. Cars stop for pedestrians.… Continue reading