Flaming Land of Dry Lightning

The strike of dry lightning sizzles and stings
The flavor of green leaving chlorophyll on my lips
Dripping in the blood of the forest and flora
That decorate the rising mountains and rolling plains
Is wiped out of the land and off of my tongue
Scorching the earth, hot and empty

Deer bound in a hurry over burning bushes
Nimble as they soar with invisible wings
Elk flee through traveled paths and trails
Barrelling their chests through the flaming twigs
Birds flutter in fear, their wings beating
In a rhythm that can be heard from miles away
Bears lope their massive bodies through brush and downed limbs
Loud and extreme in what once was their home

What will be left in what was once green and tan and yellow
Will be black and brown, soot drowning out the color of what once was there
No more flex to the branches, only stiff and begging to break
Under the weight of the age they once had
Death is spread across the floor
Of the creatures and their homes, the ones that didn't make it out

But in due time, there will be light
New growth will come
And little sprouts fight their way out to the sunlight
Squirrels create new burrows out of the dead
Rotting trees that lay on the soil

Life is a circle
Death is a circle
The only question is when the dry lightning will strike