Fires burn in the hills around the city.
Smoke curls down like a deadly snake to choke
and take....
I watch and know the knowing....
Our yearly ritual fire and then
a strange voice whispers an invocation,
commonplace yet unknown to most,
this grace...
There is a pathway of unheard fractured voices
that yearn and cry out their poetry...
Catch their words...quickly now!
Words fade as fast as fireflies in a fire.
My ears stretch to their insistence,,,the
poet's pain of knowing.
Their insistence, we are not alone