Firecracker by Ann Wood


She's a witch.
White light.
On coals steps,
without burning.
She dances the firecrackers
He's coming back
in forgotten lives.

The embers of the feet
does not burn.
In rhythm
and the pain dies.
He plays the drum.
The bagpipe rumbles.
It's a mystery.
The icon is alive.

And she flies.
She is in a trance.
The fire purifies
possesses it.
They pass in the eyes
one hundred destinies.
Love and hate
are forgotten.

She lives
in pagan dance.
The steps measure
the heart.
It's charisma.
She is called to him.
To burn evil
in celebration of heaven.

Poetry by Ann Wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 21 times
Written on 2020-05-21 at 12:25

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