i stood
half-naked
poked ashes embers
of a dying fire
at night it is easier
to see the sparks
tossing tinder
for a resurrection
of flames
i wait making
sure the ashes
return and nothing
is left
bell jar
i walked the path today
heavy with oak leaves
stumbling on the hidden rocks
i made my way down the hill
through purple asters poking
up through autumn brown
at the waterfall I sat
on the black boulders jutting
out from tired grass and built
a small fire in the circle of stones
starting it with bundled sage
seemed perfect for this october
smoke signals chased old demons
calling absent angels home
as it weaved through old growth cedar
touched the tail of a turkey buzzard
making his rounds
when the fire turned to ash I sat
listening to the moment trapped
in a bell jar and it was beautiful
