poem01 Feb 2016 07:59 am

He sits in limbo
waiting for the next summoning
licking at the scars of being
forever left behind,
clawing at the hate
of his intangible
but ever hungering form.
Until
in a flash
he is called.
As lightning he appears above
to race down through the beings below.
By twos and threes he consumes them
by his merest touch
by his slightest breath,
until he stands alone
even here
on this most fecund world.
With one more racing whirl
he is gone back home
once more in limbo,
where he piles the unburnable trinkets
of those frail creatures
that whither in his presence.
He covets these reminders
of those who can stand
the touch of their own,
of those who keep full company.
For even these remains
of those damned & blessed beings
fuel the anger
he strives to keep,
for he must stay burning bright & hot
to earn each quick release
from his solitude.
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[…] — Hilbert English Professor Herb Kauderer’s poem “Flame Dragon” appears in the February issue of Polu Texni: A Magazine of Many Arts. http://www.polutexni.com/?p=985 […]