Firecracker by Ann Wood
FirecrackerShe's a witch.
White light.
On coals steps,
without burning.
She dances the firecrackers
people.
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 ù
the heart.
It's charisma.
She is called to him.
To burn evil
in celebration of heaven.
Poetry by Ann Wood
Read 225 times
Written on 2020-05-21 at 12:25
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