What the Smoke Says
This smoke floats
With light airy whispers:
‘Marshmallows,
‘Roast potatoes,
‘Billy tea,
‘Fun by the sea.’
It points to the sweetest one
Points at me.
This smoke floats
Heavy and dark,
It billows and bellows:
‘Crisped leaves
‘And crimson sun
‘Embers are falling,
‘Fire is burning,
‘I’m your alarm,’
It points with the wind,
Says: ‘Time to flee.’
Jessica Nelson
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #44
