Anxiety 1: 爥, a poem.

360 by bike

A wildfire carried by wind,

Consuming life

before realization,

so alive

that rain-soaked moss

withers and lights,

Whips across miles,

Like dust in a gentle breeze

For the orbital lens

An ember rests deep in the ashes

Ripples its old light out in darkness

The bond tears, the grain cracks

And there, it flies free

A destroyer of invisible worlds

We woke up this morning

left the sheets all scorched and melted

Outside our window

Stands a forest of withering pines

We got in the boat, went down the road to the sea

Sat drifting a while

watching the tide

rise past its shore

and crumble the mountains we knew.

We came home around four,

I tripped on the stair.

I sat on the edge of the tub while it filled and ran over

The kids rustled through the tall grass out back

then went on through the pines,


A fire

Burned down…

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