By Andrew R. Duckworth
Looking out over the horizon,
There’s a haze out there,
A haze nothing nature made.
The product of smoke billowing miles away,
And it’s spreading, so they say.
Texas wind and Texas dry
Will keep that smoke rising to the sky.
Something brews out west.
I’m not talking about beer.
While there’s plenty of that out here,
The grass out west is dry,
And the sky isn’t clear.
Wind sweeps across the plains,
Just like it did in the good ole days.
But it seems, as strange as can be,
No matter how much rain sweeps in,
This place stays dry.
And with that fire spreading out west,
It puts my mind to the test.
Will I see that fire creep over the horizon?