Monday, November 18, 2013

Forest Fire

She is born from the brew of
dark rolling snake clouds in the night sky
with it's dry lighting shaped tongue
he flicks the earth
tasting...sensing
and leaves her
nestled at the base of the tree
her slender arms
adoringly stroke
the rough bark
until she can control herself no longer
and she rises
and consumes all
with the heat of her passion

(c) 7-24-94

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