SER CHISPA

we shove empty bottles into flames
until they glow red orange and weird
dripping into strange shapes

clouds of sparks whirl and rise
into branches above us

elizabeth says they are tree spirits
released into air
when logs burn

chispa sagrada

they melt holes
into my fleece
in this forest that glitters
with frost

elizabeth pokes at coals
to mold melting glass
into a sculpture

of sand and fire
an offering
to all that sparkles


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Published in The Peralta Press: A West Coast Literary Journal