By Bob Heafner © 1985
Issue: March, 1985
Woodsmoke curls like a mountain stream
To blend with clouds and go unseen
To reach great heights and gaze back down
At all the beauty it surrounds
To watch a deer go quickly by
To hear a robin start to cry
A tear for all the beauty lost
Because one careless match was tossed.
Please be careful with outdoor fires. Our forests are too precious to lose.