The daylight hammers on and off.
Mountains explode,
bleeding black smoke downwind.
Tides pulse on the coast.

Tracks radiate
from settlements, leaping
the firebreaks of gorge and firth
to seed another, then another.

Forests burn.
Fields. Pipelines. Roads.
The brief nights
blaze like lava.

Lines blur. The lava cools.
Green takes it all back.
Forests thicken. Tides pulse.
The daylight hammers on and off.