SMOKING HOT....

AUGUST( 1915) by Lizette Woodworth Reese ( 1856-1935) Poet  Laureate 1931. Wrote "A Handful of Lavender 1891" and   "A Wayside Lute 1909"                   

                                                
No wind. No bird.

The river flames like brass.

On either side, smitten as with a spell

Of silence, brood the fields.

In the deep grass, edging the dusty roads, lie as they fell

Handfuls of shriveled leaves from tree and bush.

But along the orchard fence and at the gate,

Thrusting their saffron torches through the hush,

Wild lilies blaze, and bees hum soon and late.

Rust coloured the tall straggling briar,

Not one Rose left.

The spider sets its loom up there

Close to the roots, and spins out in the sun

A silken web from twig to twig.

The air is full of hot rank scents.

Upon the hill drifts the moon's single cloud, white, glaring, still...

"There may be great fire in our soul, yet no one ever comes to warm itself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke...." -Vincent van Gogh

Photographs 2025 Smoky weather and skies over Mt. Washington range, Campbell River, B.C.