Poetry

By Jennifer Stockseth


Fire

I stretch my hands as near
to flame as flesh allows,
Watching the light rise and
fall in undulating patterns
that are beyond my understanding.
It’s like no thing I’ve ever known
before.
And I would share it with you if
I could,
But not even the longest of the
flickering fingers can
Reach you where you stand
beyond the trees
Your blue paleness reflecting
only ice and snow.
And even if I were to carry a
thousand of the burning splinters
in my hands to you
They’d not compare.

[photo] Photography by Jed A. Clark