controlled burning
sunspot settles into eight o’clock
quite content hanging out there
for as long as I can recall
in the field old men split seasoned wood
boys gather and stack neatly
building towers three times their size
birds and clouds passing by routinely
aided by westerly breeze
pushing forward suspended sun
transitioning perfectly seamless
natural light surrenders
controlled flames reaching for the stars
july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
lovely.
thank you very much
The purpose of that deliberate burning makes me ponder.