Tuesday, April 01, 2008

Black Smoke, White Heat

Under the dusty floorboards of my soul
there’s a spark.
Black smoke pours out like liquid asphalt
until the wood is gone.
White heat rises into the shimmering sky.
No smoke, no ash, no cinders fall from
the brilliant blue flames.
What’s burning now?


Collection available! Knocking from Inside

2 comments:

Jone said...

That opening line, what a grabber.
Congrats on your collection being published.

Sarah Stevenson said...

The final line really drives it home! Nice one.