California Burning
Where is that rare, elusive rain that never seems to come?
Our land, once rich and fertile, is now a vast dust bowl.
Great lightning strikes upon the ground, igniting trees and brush
as flames erupt, a fearsome sight, appearing strong and bold
they fan out like fiery fingers, that greedily take hold.
Like an angry dragon's breath, the fire is hotly blown, among
the helpless hills and fainting grass, and in the forests old.
Strong are the whipping winds as these hot vapors, flung
up to sky, around the towns and through the valleys low.
While raging fires lick the air, it's hot path ever grows.
In great alarm a call goes out, to those courageous ones
who rise up strong, to fight the blaze and conquer as they go
to take up battle by foot or plane, determined to overcome.
Rise up by strength or might, and banish this great foe
to save our land, renew our hope, for life and hearth and home.
Written on 8/3/2015
Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment