Woodsmoke

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.