AFTERMATH
A careless smoker’s embered match
Among pine needles fell,
And suddenly the forest burst
Into a living hell.
A smoldering fire was all it was,
When flames ignited brush,
But soon the hiss and pop of flames,
Destroyed the forest hush.
Behind a searing wall of flame,
Where smoke’s a heavy pall,
Forest creatures lie in death . . .
There’s nothing left at all.
Yet fate has spared a little one.
I wish that he could tell
The story of his own escape,
As those around him fell.
He limps on smoking ashes
Where the fire has died down,
A bear cub with his paws scorched raw –
Fur singed from tail to crown..
His thirst is almost maddening.
In pain he wanders on,
Looking for a water source
And grass to rest upon.
Would that the smoker see the cub
In all his misery,
And know that he himself’s to blame
By acting carelessly.
9/24/00 – Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck
