the burning

there is a fire
in the north woods. we
can see it burn from here.
so far away.
we are safe, we hope,
from the flames.
it's not our house,
our land,
that burns.
we watch as the smoke
rises,
the flames
paint the sky in ribbons
of yellow,
spikes of red.
we hear the scream of engines.
the sirens
bellow down
the canyon road.
we pray for the best
for them.
we can only watch so long,
in quiet,
before we go inside.