Burning Beast

This is the second of the three found poems, made from articles in Seattle’s weekly, The Stranger (July 20, 2011 edition), that I mentioned in my last post.

Burning Beast


It was a downright nonsummer,

a wet one,

pretty much ensoddening

all flesh

or trying.


Someone said

the drifting smoke

was somewhat apt.


It was raining hard.

The Beast’s spirit

seemed to

shower rain.


Original by Coconino National Forest


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Filed under Poetry, Writing

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