Blood fire

we cannot call it

by another name

 

recognition:

deep stab

in the heart of things.

 

Blossom blazes

for a day

confetti pink.

 

Blood fire:

here mediocre

stalks the edge

 

of chaos.

 

Dictators dirge

& politicians ply

platitude

 

while nations

burn.

 

But you & I

conspire

consumed

 

in red fire

unasked for.

 

Full moon casts

no shadow, pulls

 

water from our cells

leaving only madness.

 

No shadow on

a purple lawn

 

tulips eerie white

in the lamp light

 

night memory

haunts me.

 

Room sweats

blossom’s orange bloom

 

Mediterranean tresses.

Fingers of the East

 

pull me towards

another dawn

 

rocked in Earth’s

crucible.

My muse has fled

she’s flicked her hair

 

& disappeared.

 

She’s sick of

faithless lovers

 

rainy days,

the tick, tock,

 

of mortality.

 

My muse has left

she’s whirling with

 

the kestrel, & I’m

chasing sunbeams

 

a golden pathway

left by winged feet

 

wide expanse of

blue blue yonder

 

where the light

glistens.