Seasons of Fire

CHARIOT

I love my job.
The thrill of a sudden fire,
As we race towards it
In our red chariot with
Loud yells and yellow shirts
I love our shining eyes
The heat crisping faces and lips
Until at last the earth drips
With foam and water,
A darker, stinky sort of loam.
And our dance of fire
Begins again.

GHOST

The fog tangles
In clumps,
Among the tall dark trees.
The ghost of past
Wildfires,
And future infernos,
Quietly, coldly awaiting
A furious new life.

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