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The Bryant Fire
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Button This has become a scarlet fairytale
His hands preaching a scattered scene
of boxes and lines for safe keeping.
But where does the building burn to?
It's sadness lies in the flames;
the distortion and broken grains of wood.
We shuddered over its corruption
and died overseas in Paris
like a young serpent novelist.
The mob was a clever projection in our eyes
But as a trifling few
we watched it burn.
With conviction we masticate
half-way through to the truth.
My darling iris' have been unbloomed
for too long.
The page-turning, convoluted silences;
The masochists with sky filled diaries--is all too much.
And so, we set aside our quite selves
like voluntary leaves plunging first to the ground,
heavy with the wetness of fall.
Wanted to post just a first impression
The images are vivid. I would expect to see nothing less from you. Honestly, after just a once over, I was a bit frightened. However, that is good. I like that! Wanted to post just a first impression it is about looking into the flame and the smoke, the flames frame a dance in the eye. The smoke cloaks the sky with an orange hue. Concrete and wood erosions are buildings that keep dying and look like ramparts as if a runic symbol except it does not mean anything because the mystery of the past slips away with time. It reminded me of when as young child, my families’ home burned and we were homeless….
Peace
Dylan
"One of the best results of life, is the torment of love"
Dylan Eliot
"...the wetness of fall..."
Fire inspired, but there is so much more here. - Stella