Hawaii Kilauea

Lava has created molten fields somewhere in Hawaii.

The air is buckling under the imbalance of heat waves.

Fire materializes on trees like Christmas premature in its coming.

Some people are watching the burning decorations of nature mother-child.

No one is smiling and tears can't remember how to fall.

Just burning coal and frightened ash, tiptoeing over streets they
know they should not be on.

The sky has lost the black cloth it wears at night, all it has left
are orange folds of fuming sheets.

There are fields with no flowers somewhere in Hawaii.

Burt tar, burnt tar.



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