Flame

Call the moths in their brigades 

of dust.

I hear you.

Sirens and flames

call the same and refuse to

stand still. Even so,

you knew

what you were asking for.

Cold

It wasn't the way you shut me out. 

It was the way you let me in.

Like you knew it was closing time. 

Release

Imagine my dismay when

I learned that by

pulling myself back from you

                               

                                 I was only nestling deeper

                                 into the string

                                 of my bow.

12/1/20