Spotter choppers shuddered the air
Within minutes of the first rumble.
The mountains were tinder despite
A long winter and a wetter than usual spring.
The smoke from large fires north and west
Had hazed the lake already for weeks.
Now it could be our turn. No rain came
With the dragon's tongue. How was it
That any culture identified lightning
With kings and hierarchical civilization
While imaging serpents and leviathans
Hiding in caves and the sea? The dragons
Were the ones with the lightning, the gods
Were the ones in the caves. In any case,
We were not getting any rain from this
Dry confrontation. By twilight, the rotors
In the distance suggested something
Truly ominous: every Armageddon is local.
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