Prison Dixie


An orange glow reigns down
Upon concrete paths.
Ash flails as it falls.
Vanished pine needles
Blackening the ground beneath.
Drifting along sidewalks.

Ominous haze hangs air
As darkness eases over the land.
Masked, I move through quiet eerie.
Razor wire towers above.
Souls remain inside the concrete walls
As I exit the gates in cowardice.

Dixie is fierce.
She grasps the breath of a Nation.
Stealing forests.
Burning oxygen.
Barrening landscapes.
Causing fear.

I reach for my car door and pull.
Settled ash raises in final fury,
Stinging my eyes.
I am surrounded by the smell of smoke visibly stuck in the valley.
Headlights bounce off road signs
As I drive home.

Dixie is brazen.
She harms our lungs and causes trauma
While etching blackness into the land
And leaving swathes of scars.
A tragedy in the making looms
In the mountains
As the orange sun burns bright above.

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This Poems Story

Prison Dixie is a reflection of the Dixie Fire burning in Northern California from my perspective of a very ashey, dark day leaving work at a State Prison.