Black Tears

The trees are burning.
And they’ve been burning
most the year, consumed,
and consuming still,
as we watch from
behind glass screens
and safely removed,
while on the other side
flames lick up the hills
and jump ravines to reduce
the size of cities.
Smoke filling nostrils, lungs,
and eyes, of all animals alike,
including us (them),
who cry now, black tears,
where lack of comprehension
cannot see the true size
such devastation
catastrophe can wreak,
when on a map
appears as though
it could be seized
within the palm of a hand.
And isn’t that how everything
looks? So small, when,
from so very far away we stand.

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