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