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The Bonfire

January 20, 2011
By Katie Barry BRONZE, Wilmington, Massachusetts
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Katie Barry BRONZE, Wilmington, Massachusetts
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A sweet slice of moon observes
Impish figures shift their weight
Around a roaring blue-green flame.
Smoke licks the navy sky, a close friend
And metal flecks spray
From a cavern in the middle of the fire.
Twisted faces, hooked noses
Balding heads
Stubby, eager arms reach out
Grasping for that moon,
The only innocent thing left in the sky.
A pan flute sears the noiseless night
And the fire in savage eyes is stokes once more.
Back to dancing.

© Allison S., Eau Claire, WI

The author's comments:
This piece started off as pure imagery, but as it was developed, I decided to throw in hints comparing to the blind fools dancing around a fire to humans sometimes, and how they reach for the moon but never quite grasp it.
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