The Fires

I do not mind
the summer, its heat,
but I despise the
fires.

On my walk
the statues of stone
seem so
infinite, immortal.

On my walk I
see the ash
in the streets and
downriver from
a fire that rages
far from here.

It is the part
of summer I most
dislike, the fires.

Ash falls between
my every
step.