parking lot blurred by falling snow,
only it isn’t snow
but when the sun hits the ashes just right,
you can believe it is
if you forget the smoke burning through your sinuses
sending you into a coughing fit
and the Smoky Mountains are finally
living up to their name.
it’s easy to ignore
until there’s a rapping at the door
and the stampede forms
clogging highways
with cars and animals and flames
that lovingly lick the mountains
coating them in fresh black kisses,
warning everyone else to stay far away.
it’s easy to pretend
that he’s just in the other room
folding laundry or reading a book
and not dodging fireballs in the street
asking God why it won’t stop
please make it fucking stop
but it spreads like a virus
bringing down every tree, cabin, home
it can lay its fiery fingers on
driveway blurred by falling tears
maybe it is snow
when the sun is bright, and you squeeze
your eyes as tight as they go
you can believe it is
if you forget the haunting image
of grey ruins branded in your mind
that keeps you up at night
because your dreams are full of
flames and ashes calling your name.