cool flame

The bush next door
has ignited again:
the leaves at the top
turned red a week ago,
and again the idea caught on
and has spread downward
a good storey and a half,
until only the bottom leaves
are green.

I had thought to express
my concern to my neighbour;
after all, a flaming bush
is no minor matter:
millennia ago
it shook the world
into belief.

See it in his back yard
almost swallowing
the wall of my garage.
It seems to be speaking
to me, but although I don’t
understand the words,
I get the message:
it’s going to get cold
before it gets warm,
and that could mean

Somebody said
“If you speak to God,
it is called prayer;
if God speaks to you,
it is called schizophrenia.”

All I’m saying is
that’s one mighty
red bush out there,
and if I read it right,
or heard it right,
somebody should
be listening.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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