Burning Kansas

Yesterday, I drove to Lawrence. On the way there, I saw the smoke of the burning fields. On my way home at night, I could see the flames in lines across the pastures. I felt something had to be written about it.  I thought to send my sister, Chava, some pictures of what I saw, but I knew I could not convey what I was witnessing in either words or pictures well enough for her to capture some of what I felt.

I sat down and focused for a few minutes and wrote this poem.  I am most emphatically NOT a poet, so I'm pretty pleased that this turned out half decent.

Burning Kansas

Tatters of smoke carried on wind

Hazing the air, making it dim

Tainting the sky to mix with the clouds

Dimming their color - dirty and fouled

Winter brown fields, fallow and tired

Patiently waiting until they are fired

Carpeted black, they turn emerald green

One final trial before coming Spring

Red the sun's setting, horizon on fire

Dark from the East creeps higher and higher

Ranked 'cross the prairie, flames glow in their dances

Black smoke and fire as they're burning Kansas