What do you own? anything at all?
In reality nothing is owned neither big nor small
The items you cherish and think are yours
Are really just loaners for as long as life endures
You can take nothing with you of course that's obvious
Possessions have their own life forever circulating to a new audience
CRISPY CRITTERS
Their whiskers singed,
the dogs unhinged,
the horses flee,
and goats run free.
The deer stag leap,
from flames that keep,
and creatures scream,
as their flesh steam.
Their eyes do melt,
with sore and welt,
all lost their home,
and forced to roam.
They seek their owners,
by now, all loaners,
more lost than found,
for miles around.
Their lungs breath smoke,
inhaled, they choke,
no water, food, or cozy bed,
no rest for limbs, or weary head.
Their paws are raw,
by natures's law,
that flames take down,
all life, Earthbound.
We stir the ash to find the gem,
and search to find each one of them,
to catch and find, to love and hold,
our frightened, furry, lost and bold.
Broken things, and broken hearts,
the village shifts to make new starts,
and yet their souls' are pained and sore,
for kitty, puppy, colt, and more.
By, Edlynn Nau
© Sept. 17, 2015
[In memorial of all creatures deceased, or yet to be saved, from the Valley Fire, CA]
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