Fire and eyes

twisting and rising

reaching for the sky

Waves of smoke

obscuring the air

hiding thoughts from above

Stars winking

I think they might be drinking

they baffle me so

The trees are shaking

they can hear their comrades baking

The fire consumes

spitting out ash

and white hot coals

Where's a poor tree to go?

The rocks hold the fire within

shaped earth forms a blazing basin

flames leap to and fro

pushing ever higher

yet pulled back to the ground

where their source

of fuel can be found