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Personal Note:

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Poem

The cabin is a lumber store of snores
Sawing and hacking while lying on our backs
Filling the day’s orders of dreams and chores

I’m the only one up this early
Alert to the prophecies
With checklists of nails and hammers in hand

The uncontained forest fires north of Superior
Have painted the blue skies over Torch Lake
Opaque with smoke

Twine in the pine trees buckling with birds

The sun does not rise
But burns like a candle
Hazy and orange sweeping the hills

Lighting and fanning the kindling
Of our curtains and walls lampshades and sofas
Our jack-o-lantern cabin
Set aglow

Burning down from the inside out
Its scowling face spitting flames
To the Azaleas wheat fields and faces of deer

Holes in my bucket as I run to the lake
Too late
Too late

Yawns and stretches what’s for breakfast?

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