Forest Fire Poem by James McLain

As of late
as I ponder my fate
consumed I am
by my foolishness.

The fire of my dreams
show me
my insensabilites.

How I should have
excepted the offers
of coffees
from the good ole boys.

No longer do I lie
for them
for me some do.

Once long ago
in my own
filth and squalor
I did live
only by leave
of the state.

Now each confession
brings even more
concessions
of one self.

Now the truth
of quite
dignity sings
these simple words
that end in grief.

In the end
in bed we lay at rest
before
each new crime
was even committed.

As the
forest fire
consumes
our very souls.