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“Fire,” Ensign, Oct. 1980, 5


I stretch my hands as near

to flame as flesh allows,

Watching the light rise and

fall in undulating patterns

that are beyond my understanding.

It’s like no thing I’ve ever known


And I would share it with you if

I could,

But not even the longest of the

flickering fingers can

Reach you where you stand

beyond the trees

Your blue paleness reflecting

only ice and snow.

And even if I were to carry a

thousand of the burning splinters

in my hands to you

They’d not compare.

Photography by Jed A. Clark