Sky...Havoc!

Slowly, and lowly, from the haze,
Waxes the wildfire moon
As an apparition too soon
Hinting at apocalyptic days
In a feverish twilit cloak
Of boldly emerging gibbous gold;
That angel hue so oft foretold
To coincide with death and smoke
And final Armageddon flame...
Bright now that the setting sun
Seizes his day and calls it done
When moonbeams and fire tint the same
In the tragic spectral harmony
Of moonlit air...and burning tree!