There's a fire burning down in the valley, thick white smoke. It's been
Going for hours. Nobody seems to be trying to stop it. Maybe
Someone is clearing a field. I read for a while, left-wing complaining,
Then look up to watch it. I'm not of a mind to make it a metaphor
For what I'm reading. Such woes plague the world, but, on this day,
In this place, I will accept that a fire is all that it is.