Fire doesn’t fly
it floats,
a lure to the writer, the moth, the child
who would not look away.
A flame hovering above its wick, striving
toward the heights, only to flail against its anchor
in a struggle we interpret as a flicker.
Lightning bolts trapped
in the body of a bug blink
on, off, golden waves backlit against purple.
If only I could understand that drifting, lilting
language of light, I would be haunted by a love song
more beautiful than a whale’s theme–
I would learn why a flame is called a tongue.
6 thoughts on "Fire doesn’t fly"
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The flame as a tongue is an intriguing metaphor!
Thank you! I thought that was a nice way to end it.
Love the title and firstline, had me there…
Love: ” would learn why a flame is called a tongue.”
Thank you!!!
This is gorgeous – right down to the last line. You’ve captured so much of fire’s attraction.
Thank you! I just finished reading Firestarter yesterday, so I wanted to capture something of the novel’s essence. 🙂