Fire

Poetry

The staccato spark

light worms the darkness

stripes of fire-drops

cascade of gold dribbles

matching the sunset.

 

The eye does duplicate

two for the sweep of one

the air filters and stings of smoke

peppers with glitter

the combustion of tree crusts.

 

We whoop to the night

with our glowing sticks

black and torching

making twirls and spirals

on the retina of the sky.

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2 thoughts on “Fire

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