Fire
I dreamt last night I was a volcano,
but afraid of my own power
I erupted bitterness instead of fire
The neglected dog two doors down
is a different heat
and it burns my belly to imagine him there
under the hot light of a back porch
Night winds cool the winds of the day
that are harsher in their own way
the sun swept around in the branches
is mad there is no shadows
and basks the leaves in a blinding light
There is this fiery sense and then a sensitive release only time mends, but I’m still thinking of that lone dog.