Belle Fire

Driving back from New Orleans
Taking turns behind the wheel
"Copperhead Road" on the radio
And gators grinning just off the asphalt
But Mississippi's waiting patiently
The old manse and southern hospitality
All the comforts of her bed, and breakfast
That warmth beckoning just ahead
Yet there's a shadow sweeping off the porch
A resultant panic in my Scarlet's eyes
A violent turn to her steering
Her look becoming one of a trapped rat
She sees fire rising from the rear fields
And feels it catching in her hair
All I can do is bear witness
And perhaps shed a tear
I am a gentleman, after all.