Against the Dark Sky on Interstate-75
A wildfire burns on Jellico Mountain
like a thousand eyes glowing in the black woods,
a black velvet painting—pinpricked—the light
rippling through with such beauty, you forget
to breathe, flames blinking like luminous
creatures who live in the deep ocean lighting
their own paths. The flares lick the trees;
you feel the white heat and the rule of blaze,
you hear it as you exhale: the crackle
and sizzle, the clamor of tragedy
combusting as you drive away into the dark.
6 thoughts on "Against the Dark Sky on Interstate-75"
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I still love this.
thanks for your class last night, Sean. I loved it!
Such a rhythm to the sights and sounds here. Wow to the ending!
“the crackle
and sizzle, the clamor of tragedy”
Nailed it! This is such a tragic poem, yet your imagery lends it dignity. Great word choices. I remember telling my students, “Give me vocabulary that sets my hair on fire.” I wish I’d had this example, and not just because it’s about fire! Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you!
This sounds familiar! It as great – I especially like where it veers off from the “list” that birthed it.