Scents of Creosote
I had been easily tempted to witness the burn out house.
To recollect those feelings.
To cherish my hatred.
To bemoan decades of fear and doubt.
I drove by the structure
I drove by
And, drove by again.
My wanting for display began to wear thin.
Scents of creosote and thin dusky air does not change.
So, I went to raging waters to rearrange.
To evoke black soot tragedy from another’s time…could never be mine.
I had discovered the healing rains ever so kind.