My Poem….The Orchard

The Orchard

 

Apple smoke

surprising, sweet,

they’re burning

down the orchard

this afternoon.

In slanting

autumn sunlight,

the hazy air

is foggy gold

above scorched grass.

Tomorrow

men will bring shovels here,

harder to dig stumps than burn.

Beyond razed rows,

there’s life,

sturdy apple saplings.

Renewing nature

enters such evidence

to make its case

for hope.

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