Smoke from the slash burns
hangs on the hills.
Soon, slash burns will have gone
the way of bloodletting.
But for now, they glow in the distance,
and send up a brown and orange haze
that brings to mind that song,
“Smoke From a Distant Fire,”
by the one-hit wonder, Sanford-Townsend Band,
the greatest slash burn song in rock history,
played by a band that never saw or smelled
a slash burn.
That song is playing, right now,
as I drive toward a rainbow
shooting and curling out of the haze,
a song on AM radio,
sandwiched between two Save-Me-Jesus stations
fire and brimstoning about the
end of the world.
Rain fell somewhere in the hills,
I know it did.
A rainbow is all the proof I need,
of the presence of rain,
and other good things.