Ash

I touched a single leaf
with a matchstick fingertip,
and watched the whole tree
turn to ash,
burning down through the roots
and up,
singeing each blade of grass
to the very tip.
The ground grew blackened and grey
in an airless wave
around my feet and spread;
a ripple of ruin against
a pure green.
With one unguarded touch
I brought down a land
and left smoldering
something once so beautiful
and worthy,
tainted the air with
my own exhalation of smoke
and burned, without intent,
every living thing.