A heavy haze hangs over our heads
Leaving me heaving and hanging my head.
Smoke from infernos, in lands far away,
Is drifting downwind, so the weatherman said.
Though it drafts fiery sunsets and moonrises here
Enflaming and sparking this poetic thread,
We sigh for our Oregon sweet summer days
Begone smokeyhead, begone with your dread!
tribalminded.com 