The skies have been dark this week, the air stagnant and toxic. I can feel the burn in my throat. I can only think “this is how it will be forever now. Every summer now will burn.” Summer skies filled with smoke, blue turns grey, and ashen. I am sad, the kind of sad you’re not supposed to talk about. I  didn’t know I would see the change in my lifetime, not really. You know your hear about these things, this climate disaster, global warming. But it is all far away, apocalypse abstract.

These last few summers its been in no way abstract, it has been here, present and beside me. I am unable to turn away. My once blue summer Oregon skies have gone dark. We can not ignore the  truth. It’s closing time. This is only the beginning. Get ready for the fall, there will be darkness.

Our world burns.
Today smoke fills the skies
my throat, lungs and eyes.
Blue sky, a memory of summer gone now.
The earth is hot
103 in Redding yesterday
10,000 people evacuate
running from the flames.
Their cars are hot, on scorched highways
the fumes from their tailpipes fill the sky.
What of those that cannot run?
No gas in their tanks or
money in their banks.
What if they are ill?
In body or mind, those who choose to stay behind.
What of the winged ones, and the 4 legged
It is all too much to bear.
Tonight- the moon is orange and amber
a dark glow in the sky.
It seems to me she is looking down and weeping.
So am I.


Marianna Louise Jones

3 thoughts on “Burn

  1. Hank Delison says:

    Something I wrote after feeling down about the state of politics in this country.

    Walking back to the car after dragon boat practice
    I passed by a maple tree sprout
    Sticking up in the crack between
    Two pieces of sidewalk and the building.

    6, maybe 8 inches tall
    With 5 almost full grown maple leaves
    Obviously a sprout from the roots
    Of the big maple tree in the planting area
    On the other side of the sidewalk from the building.

    Here, in this most inhospitable of environments
    With uncaring, unseeing, unknowing people
    Walking inches away,
    With ‘death to weeds’ groundskeepers
    Spraying unthinkable pesticides
    On anything green that is not on ‘the plan’,

    This little green maple sprout sticks its head up in defiance.

    Nature never stops trying to live
    Trying to grow, trying to exist.
    And neither should we stop trying

    Delison 2018

    Liked by 1 person

    • mariannalouise says:

      I love this Hank. I can see that little one, sprouting, defiant, alive. Nature is alway our teacher. So much we have to learn and yes, I am here, continuing to strive onward in the face of all this sorrow. I know you are here to, and that helps.


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