Brent Dax (brentdax) wrote,
Brent Dax

  • Mood:
  • Music:
The sun is crimson
A shade for hours later,
Not for four o’clock.

The sky is yellow,
Not a clear day’s blue and white
Or rainy day’s gray.

Ashes fall from the air.
A fire miles away
Threw them to the sky.

Like flakes of snow they
Cover everything, but they
Do not melt like snow.

Instead they sting eyes,
Stick to the cars and houses
And collect in pits.

California on
October twenty-fifth,
Two thousand and three.

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