Smoke in the Valley

There’s smoke in the valley, again, 

And no matter how far down I slide 

The little icon that tells my camera 

How much light to take in, 

It still can’t capture the rosiness of the sun; 

How red it is, as it hangs there in the sky, 

Blushing at the thought of all those fires, 

All with their curious names: 

Bear Gulch, and Hamma Hamma;

 Hiawatha, and Discovery; 

Stud Horse, Pomas, and Striped Peak, 

All burning in the summer heat…