I light the candle in the jar,
it flames from the match
in blues then yellow, the spindled
point swivels in the breath of the house.
In a hearth, flames warm the home,
dry oak crackles, embers star up the chimney.
Morning ashes, incense of the dead fire,
grey the charred logs.
In a forest, a cinder sparks. The fire
devours everything. Jumping a firebreak,
it swallows a house. Smoke clouds the sky
to bring on a storm.
Red embers escape to travel the wind.
With the last tree enveloped in red and orange,
flames are contained.
In the jar, I smother the flame’s
quiet flutter with the lid, leaving a ring
of black smoke on the rim.
Oracle 2023
