Lessons Learned from Burning

The poetry of the river
is the ephocal lapping
of currents and
naked waves licking
drooly rocks
that abound
its mouth
poised to devour
and conquer

But the mist of the forest,
and the magnitude
of mountains,
winds winding
around blue birds
splayed like tapestry
on a lonely glass wall
end the burning hiker
down to a kneel,
questioning.

How are you living?
Iron doors
Rock walls
Cold floors
How are you living?

6:37 PM 3/6/13