into the flames the willow tree burns
smoldering leaves melt from the crown
dripping into the snow.
I walk away as the last root burns
and shake gasoline from my fingertips.
the waiting messiah smiles
snow building around its presence.
the thinning horizon meets the
whitening land as shadows disperse.
when the last ember cools and
fire and roar leave this place,
an orchestra plays softly.
I turn back – the beings presence
moving left to right and we walk
together toward the disappearing horizon.
