forest fire

(this one is for my little sister. in the hopes that she will always see her light)

He was a forest fire

Full of rage

& passion

Always burning hot

& wild

With desires that

Consumed

The changing

Autumn leaves

Of her landscape.

Tears were too weak

to extinguish

those flames.

& after the smoke

All that remained

Was a desolate space

Where all of her colors died

Laying in graying

Piles of ash.

But  I come, with

A healing heart

hands full of

glue & watercolors & brushes.

To piece her beauty back

inside her.

Paint her new scenes

to remind her

that her soul

is a light

& she

was made for springtime.