Paw has started a fire in the road
Just as the wind begins to gust and growl.
Flames are leaping up,
Licking the wooden fenceposts.
Molten gold climbing vines
Flutter violently as the fire
Screams higher and higher.
Great billowing smoke
Relieves itself from the road
And hurries off across the valley.
Fingers of the dark clouds
Grip the sky above,
As if tearing at the fabric,
Pleading with that great expanse
"let out what weights me."
Something like acquiescence leaks out,
The fingers retract,
Form fists of concentration instead.
The fire is out.
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