a whole category on burning

Kate LaDew


on throwing precious things into fires


thoughts, words, perfect phrases, loves, desires


crisp, once, as cut apple, they curl in the heat


the/and/see/me/we baby’s feet


scaffoldings of prayer shawls, blue threads fade into black and white


only photographs now on a glowing digital page


if you squint hard, you see faith discarded, a pile of hopes,


the residue of shoulders curving every fold


indentions specific to one beating heart


the backdrop of trains, soldiers, pale white sky


and smoke, always smoke, always burning


we tried to break them down to a cinder but they rise