"The Burning."
"In the numb, numberless days there
were disasters in the distance, strange upheavals.
No one understood them.
At night the sky was scored with light
for the far plains of the planet buckled and burned.
In the dawns were intervals of darkness on the scorched sky,
clusters of clouds, and eclipse and cinders descending.
Nearer in the noons the air lay low and ominous and inert.
And eventually at evening or morning or midday
at the shear wall of the wood were
shapes in the shadows approaching always
and always alien and alike.
And in the foreground the fields were
fixed in fire and the flames flowered in our flesh."
That was very appropriate.
It's a war poem and I heard the sounds of war in the distance
there.