ASH

The nursery was plagued
with white and black flecks
on the tender skins.
They had not hardened to bark.
The fingers had shed their leaves
and the limbs had shrunk.
Stumped to obscure shapes.

They tried burning the bodies,
but the disease spread flies
through the forest
of sparks and smoke.
Everywhere foxes and rabbits
squealed from the spiral.
The charred witness of the trees.

AUTUMN

for CR

I heard it from trees, burn leaves

gold through bronze into ash.

Whatever was gifted was burnt,

the flames silvering birches

with white heat, blackened elms,

a willow unwept in a cowl

of firecrackers. Come dawn, charred

limbs reach through the gunsmoke.

A fox bark coughs among embers.