Colin Dardis writes from Belfast:
I’m not in New Mexico but I’ve just read Fire Season by Philip Connors and this spoke to me.
early spring, first post –
potential acres drowning
the lookout station
every fire is named –
nothing stays anonymous,
smallest smoke christened
fire paints beneath black –
overhead, open canvas,
smokejumpers attack
yes, it’s true – the fire
is welcomed in certain parts:
life chokes otherwise
Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond 