The Envisionment

When the fire department burned our old barn,
I watched. The man with the mask went in for
A moment, then ran out towing fire; lucky
Thing he brought his own air to breathe.
The smoke twisted the sky into submission and
The mist hung for hours about my head,
And when it lifted there were only wet ashes,
Like the men in heavy coats had never been.
The foundation is still there; we store the
Winter hay on top of it so it doesn't mold
From the bottom.

In those days I used to sit on the hay bales
As Dad dragged them, two at a time, to the
Cows. He was giant, and could still
Recognize his son.