Forest Fire

I wrote this while watching a storm brew up over Shuswap lake. There was a mighty wind and it seemed to come from all directions, or rather, it seemed to be going like a tornado in circular motion. The lightening was spectacular and the cracks of thunder were good enough to lift a person off their feet, in reaction.

This scrap of  a poem is probably the kind  of thing you could interest an adolescent in, regarding poetry.

Primordial witch, she stirs the air

and roils the mighty stems of fir

and boughs of cedar.

To heat the pot, she calls upon the angry sky

who sends a bolt of light to fuel the fire.

To wet her stew, she commands the clouds

who send a deluge.

The cauldron boils.

The ogre demands his broth

and growls and thunders.

She sets more wood beneath the pot

and calls upon a storm of fire.

With rage the ogre sucks the broth

and in basso profuno cries,

“Too hot!”

Too late.

The forest is ablaze. The air

thins out, grey ash shrouds the cooking site

and fills the valleys

and taints the lakes.

The ogre having drunk his fill

lays supine, falls asleep upon the hill,

and in the morn, as if it never were,

parched grass has risen green

and set out flower.

But where the sandy hill comes

down to the shore, the earth is cracked in fissures

and leaping still,

as if in fear he might want more,

the fire is stoked and blazing.


Tags: , , ,

One Response to “Forest Fire”

  1. swatch Says:

    Great poem K – what a sight – what power

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: