Fire Season

I think of you and a crow
charges out of a spruce tree
screeching black exclamations
into a suddenly windy evening.

Smoke from fires in high
forests is settling into
this valley. The smell of it
insinuates into all our

corners. Everything has been
hazy all day. As the sun
falls, the dimming sky turns
red and grey over the burning

mountains. Down here
the wind is chilly. Birches
wave their frilly arms with
dry, flammable noises.