Monday, 29 October 2007

Fire Ranger by Bob Bradshaw

From here it feels like I'm living
in a bonsai garden. Mountains
in the distance are smooth stones.
Scattered clouds
glow at sunset like Japanese maples.
Deer move through the grounds.
Headlights on the roads below
are as fuzzy as paper lanterns.
From this nest in the Sierras
I see a green cloudscape
of forest. Are you lonely?
everyone asks.
It isn't lonely in a tree house,
I answer. It's peaceful. Smoke
threads up through the trees
like smoke from a pipe.
My job's important. It's not
an escape, as you suspect. Why
don't you visit me more, you ask?
I'm not living on the upper floor
of a fire station, with a fire pole
to slide down from.
Don't worry. We'll keep in touch,
I promise. But friends up here
are like birds on a roof.
One by one they disappear
as the snow flies

Bob Bradshaw, California, USA


Linda Jacobs said...

Bob, Your images are right on! I want to live there! Ah, solitude. ~Linda

Crafty Green Poet said...

Bob Bradshaw is a programmer living in Redwood City, CA. He is a big fan of the Rolling Stones. Recent work of his can be found at Eclectica, Umbrella Poetry Journal, Apple Valley Review and Red River Review. Forthcoming work will appear in Orange Room Review and Cha.

Paul Squires said...

Very beautiful evocation of place and the spirit of particular place, almost like a ghostsong.

Mandy said...

lots of layers here
love it

Jo said...

Ah, I love beautiful.

Diane Dehler said...


Rethabile said...

The fuzzy, lantern-looking headlights of distant cars intrigues me as an image.

Unknown said...

This is beautiful and haunting. I like the ending about the birds on the roof.
Lovely work.