Firefall

 

 

 

 

Firefall

 

 

 Lightning falls tonight

along the border of change.

Summer made a brass mirror

hot as Hell's floor to flare

the prairie grass to fire. 

Now her demon child

walks the storm.

We built a tall white tower

a colossus to catch the wind

for us to eat. With a flick of

staggered shot the lightning felled it

melting it

like an interrupted dream.

And so it was

when you and I

met to hold the lightning

in our palms, flaring in

a mutual fire, to give back

the reflection of love

from eyes of brass. Too much

heat cracks the shell.

Too much

of the electric touch

and towers melt,

lightning falls singing

a crackling song that says:

no one can own me

only the end I bring them.

 

 

August 2022

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

posted for earthweal's weekly challenge:

Lightning Falls 

 

 (with apologies to Brendon 

for shamelessly using his theme title)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note: Last night we got one of those wild storms that pop up along an advancing front. Most of it missed us here at my location, saving some very welcome thunder and rain, but parts of the state got flooding downpours, downburst winds up to 75 mph, and a lot of lightning, a bolt of which melted this wind turbine in Custer County and set it on fire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Images: Volcano and lightning, author unknown, via the internet. Fair Use

Burning Wind Turbine, Custer County, courtesy of Oklahoma News 9 Weather, Fair Use 

Heartbeat

 

 

Heartbeat

 

 

 

 

The earth is aching where I walk and never learn,

her broad abiding back riven and split

by the wedge of heat and maul-strikes of the sun;

she was never meant to look so desolate,

 

nor the sickle moon give up her soul to burn.

Sere ghosts of a dead storm blow like yellow leaves

to the grassfire hell-combustion at full day's cairn,

bellies swelled on dust and smoke until they heave.

 

But still I see young hawks on thermal towers,

hear the cricket scrape his withered legs and sing,

know it's a fool who digs a graveyard for the flowers

for life is the deathless husband of these things.

 

I am an iron weight that soon must drop;

earth is a heartbeat fire cannot stop.

 

 

 

July 2022

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 posted for earthweal's

Open Link Weekend

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Note: Temperatures here in Oklahoma are expected to stay between 100 and 110 through July and into August. We haven't had extended extreme heat like this since 2012, and it was awful then.We pray the power grid holds, the A/C doesn't die and just huddle down and try to make it through the wildfires and heat exhaustion, but many parts of the world are seeing temperatures like these where they have never existed before and are unprepared for its force, enduring great hardship. I extend my sympathies. Take care as much as you can; it sucks, and it can kill.

 

 

 

 

 Images © joyannjones, july 2022