One of the things I did recently was take a poetry class. I love to write poetry, and I knew it would help me “unlock” during a rough time. When the haiku lesson came around, my favorite, we had a horrible situation as the winds of East Texas arrived and comingled with nearby wildfires. The air was so bad as we drove home, I wrote down all my impressions. When my husband opened the truck door to get gas, a huge piece of black soot flew in and landed on my paper next to my pen. I wondered if it had once been somebody’s house.
Sucking air, we drive
on tree-sheltered country roads
to avoid traffic
Raging careless wind
delivers soot, smoke, ash, mixed
with East Texas dirt
Sickly green air reeks.
Tender April-budding trees
bend, gag in vile wind
Red dirt tornadoes
dance across dry livestock fields,
pound scared cows with grit
Bluebonnets huddle,
bow, defer to opaque wind,
will themselves to live
Red-ringed sun setting
behind the dirty curtain
casts an evil glow
Burnt putrid veil paints
the great outdoors colorless,
monotonous gray
On the radio
Dr. Levi tells how to
treat breathing problems
