Once Upon a Harvest Moon

September’s harvest moon rose full this eve,

Cloaked in orange from the billowing smoke.

Gone are the longest days now left to grieve

Wildfire-hazed skies stole breath and strangled our throats.

Summer hath passed like the tender moment,

Blissfully witnessing, a child’s first steps.

Scorched its black mark ingrained on the mountain,

Burning through bridges whilst the creek it leapt.

Gone are days walking to school so playful,

Skipping and jumping into autumn leaves.

Sounds of crunching, yet ever so graceful,

Souls of our shoes on the pavement beneath.

Crisp air once fresh smelled of harvested lands

Now charred; my soul comfort, your gracious hand.