Tag Archives: smoke

Still Fire


Yet the wood cannot be collected
without a little moss,
light – a burrow full,
and a song of cider-sap
from the knot hole.

A living shadow
the flame, naked
laughing in your unsteady eye.
A little something
saved from the sun’s harvest,
a bit of air
left in the bird’s wing;
a sprig of dove
lodged in between sunken olives.

smoke feeds the night.