Through the smoke

As the smoke, ash and, fire moves in closer I'm mostly just watching the skies, listening to the wildlife and farm critters.

The music of Purcell echoes round these rounds, grey skies, all dark thoughts and low oxygen.

I make short trips into the murky pool that is outside my door -- Some plums, and tomatoes, a check up on the birds.

Burning days
red nights
and my mind
lost to the
pythian
haze of
timelessness-