The sun fades and the fear within reaches the horizon.
Nightfall approaches and the last bird has made its final call.
The air is deathly silent, not even the music of the night is heard.
The tree’s thick brown skin, layered in gray and black soot.
The willow tree scorched to extinction, will never breathe again.
Green leaves, shriveled into cinder, tumbles through the hot wind.
Every fragment, demolished by the untenable wildfire.
Infernos expose the most valuable parts of the aging willow.
Everything that once was, gone forever like a message
In a bottle, cast away at sea, never to return.
The red and orange flames burned for days,
Until there was nothing left, but ashes.