The plan was to get up early and work on a poem for today in response to one of Audrey Gidman’s July prompts (#14 — about a fish, without naming the fish in the poem). My bluegill poem will have to wait. When I got up this morning the view above is what I saw. And the act of taking in that air, laden with the smoke of lost trees and lives and lands, made me unbearably sad. And so I wrote.
Jill has today’s Poetry Friday roundup at Jill Dailey.
A(nother) Year of Reading 
Powerful and sad poem for what’s happening, you’ve put it well, especially the last two lines and tying to loss of ancestral history. It’s very bad in Chicago too, thanks Mary Lee! ❤️🩹😷🦋
LikeLiked by 1 person
As did I. My JUST-EARTH poetry took shape while the smoky reminders of what we caretakers of Earth must do and what reparations are required. I thoroughly appreciate your line, “We breathe a history lost.” It flies the magenta warning flag alert. or should…
LikeLiked by 1 person
We were both pulled to what was happening to the outside! It’s good to not ignore what tugs at our hearts.
LikeLike