The hawks are flying.
The whales cannot be seen.
Boats waver in the harbor.
Streets are empty.
Cars linger in garages.
The air is heavy,.
The sky lowers.
Clouds hover in dense figurations.
Havoc rules the days and nights.
Gloom registers beyond the closed doors.
Forest fires dazzle the eyes.
What is pristine is everywhere.
Air, wind, water, fire.
To hear a baby cry bewilders
in the fury of the firelit zone.
Previous "Death on All Fronts" "Death on All Fronts" Index Next "Death on All Fronts"