Forest Lambs


Wooden fingers snap syncopated beats

As sparks waft into the air like fireflies

Translucent oranges and reds rise in sheets

While white smoke dances into darkened skies


Coals glow with a fevered satanic fry

Consuming the eagerly sacrificed

Charred remains tumble and shift as they die

No feelings of loss or remorse enticed


Steadily I feed the dead but not done

Onto raging forest funeral pyre

Blazing symbol of another day won

A chance at some warmth before I retire


My thanks to you my round bark-covered friend

Certain this is not the end you desire

To the heavens your ringed soul I commend

Your short life given to fuel needed fire


12 Responses to “Forest Lambs”
  1. beth says:

    gratitude for the tree and it’s sacrifice. I wrote about wood chips today, another sacrifice

  2. Jim Borden says:

    great title; reminds of the days we used to go camping. building the fire was the best part…

  3. Francisco Bravo Cabrera says:

    Very powerful, very real and very dramatic, an artistic and beautiful way of approach to an important subject. Brilliant!

  4. petespringerauthor says:

    Brilliant! I don’t recall reading anything like this from you before, Brad. What is it about sitting around a campfire that makes everything better?

  5. jonicaggiano says:

    This is such a beautiful tribute to the trees Brad. You know how much the trees and I are bonded. I love the ending especially. They are already burning again this year. Let’s hope not too many are destroyed. Beautiful work Brad. 😘🤗🦋🌸💝love Jonikins

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