Flare

Day reclaims the field, the frost evanescing and rising as mist into a polished sky as the sun clears the woods.

From two miles away we hear the throaty roar of compression and combustion. A new gas well flaring. All night the sky had quaked. Happy Halloween.

From space the signs of human enterprise stand out. We render the earth barren and uninhabitable.

We never have enough.

The briar leaf is worth a second click.

copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved