Poetry: Arson Season

It hurts to hold this hissing light.
Sears the skin.
Leaves ugly scars.
Where it tears with acrid claws.

Screams if I try and creep to sleep.
Burns down dreams.
Bakes me awake, to be.
Seethed and drenched in leaden dred.

Suffocates each face.
Behind flickering red flags.
Brightens the light.
But makes the shadows starker.

Scares the sheep.
But scalds the wolf.
Warms my corpse.
And keeps me wise.

My sweet oblivious babe. I’m sorry you’ll inherit my head. Catch each contagious fear. And even if it’s never worth it. Please at least burn long enough.

To forgive me.

For sprinkling you with sparks.

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2 Responses

  1. Beautiful poem and powerful words, made me a little emotional as my eldest son has inherited a few of my ‘sparks’ too. I will show him this.
    Thank you for sharing.

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