Cinder and Soot

She kindled an invisible spark
of power in her palm, its wane glow
accentuating the soot of night, darkness
wrapping her in its pitch black shroud.
She stroked the fragile flame
with her fingertip, watched it grow,
hungry for the silvering starlight,
the smell the hyacinth, the sticky breeze.
She throws her arms, casting
weak glamours -- dancing bears,
brilliant birds, airborn fish,
and strange creatures with no names --
momentariy scattering the deep velvet dark
before winking out, drifting
like cinders back to earth.

* * *
In response to 3 Word Wednesday.

.
A couple weeks ago (or so) I wrote a poem called "Miscalculation" for 3 Word Wednesday (word were Collapse, Sweet, and Yearn).
It went:

Miscalculation

Miscalculation rendered this moment:
Me collapsing
into the sweet ache of yearning
as your train rattled by.

* * *

This week's 3 Word Wednesday (words are Cradle, Perfect, and Snare) is a continuation on that thought.

* * *

The leaving existed
in perfect symmetry
with the meeting, another
distant miscalculation aligning
two opposing forces. You and me,
we allowed that accidental junction
to tether us into dual orbit,
forced to cradle that slender cord
even as it stretched taught
between us and snared
on each everyday triviality.

And me: kneeling on this platform,
paper dancing in the windy wake
of the train, uncertain. Do the trails
of my tears bear the resemblance
of regret or relief?

* * *

Don't know what I think about the second section I added. In some ways I think I could have left the poem as complete as it was, but this is what came to mind this week.

I posted this to my twitter yesterday for 3 Word Wednesday, but it was pointed out to me that I should post it hear, so that people can comment on it more easily (and therefore I can go check out what they have written. Made sense. So here it is.

Miscalculation
Miscalculation rendered this moment:
Me collapsing
into the sweet ache of yearning
as your train rattled by.