Kids That Play With Fire

kids that play with fire
fuming, sparkling and
in their hands the mystery
of reduplication
the emergent nature of
matter and its changing
—now cool and dark
now bright and hot
and burning holes in darkness
they play, and we watch—
the sudden
fantasy of their alchemy.
in time our children
will watch the sun’s stare
and will remember their playing,
those sparklers burning,

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


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