Usually we take breath for granted—
until we can’t—
fires burn across Alberta,
smoke drifts to Pennsylvania and beyond—
I can’t see the blue tower,
across the Allegheny just two miles away,
I’m short of breath and my dog pants
on our morning neighborhood walk,
he pulls on his leash to go home,
air smells of woodsmoke,
luckily, we can go inside
our air-conditioned house.
What about people living in tents,
in hedges and under bridges,
song sparrows nesting in the magnolia.
Finally the day cools
as sun sets purple, pink
and orange through the haze—
so colorful,
it takes my breath away.
