by Anne Eyries
after Frederick Seidel
Another red alert for forest fires fanned
by Mistral winds sweeping down the Rhône,
Nick Cave playing solo in the open air,
stone steps crowded, piano centre stage
surrounded by antique disrepair; hikes,
camping banned by Prefectural Decree
and lookouts permanently manned, but
there goes a careless tourist or arsonist
who shields the glow to flaunt the flames;
here organic songs roar with poetic intent,
scores flung aside caught by wilful gusts,
blown out of sight and words released
like prayers, evensongs predicting mourning,
incense for this awkward, unrhymed aubade.
Anne Eyries has poetry and fiction published in various journals, including Amsterdam Quarterly, Consilience, Dust, Feral, London Grip, Moss Puppy, and Piker Press. She lives in France.
Emerge Literary Journal 