Inspired by an eye witness account of the forest fires raging in the south of France at the moment—a fire fighter describing being encircled by flames, and the most upsetting detail he remembers, seeing birds flying over the burning trees, their feathers aflame.
In this world of fire and blood, of swallowings by the sea or bullet hail, tears fill oceans, weeping sears the air, and ragged vibrations of sorrow scorch the skin. So much misery, a black well never full, and yet I can still see a bird, lost in frantic fluttering, flee a forest fire, its feathers in flames, and find my heart can break again.
No phoenix flies far,
no resurrection from this
inferno, just tears.
When flames sweep the sky I watch
feathers fall like burning stars.