Seeds
for Niko
It’s the smell we remember –
Fire embraces earth, slicing
through a million mistakes,
each a new normal
to be accepted as true,
immutable as stolen land.
There are bones to be discovered,
stories told:
monsters are as real
as those who serve them
We see darkness
but don’t describe it,
leaving it to children
to find a way out.
In the flames
we see ourselves –
no reflections,
only time to move
from child
to father
to old man
standing in a pile
of ashes.
