Watching For Spots - a Day On a Wildfire
An easy, steady wind
Picks up and changes direction.
Thick smoke engulfs the line while
Ash, dust, and grit swarms
Eyes, nose and mouth.
Snot runs unabated.
One eye tightly closed,
The other a squinting sliver.
Throat burning.
The last Nalgene half-full
Of stale, tepid water.
Infrequent, twenty degree wind
shifts
Bring a momentary reprieve.
Each gulp of fresh air seems
Like a small miracle.
What time is it?
1045
It's going to be a long day.
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