Thunderstorm/Forestfire

I Like The Way You Are
Both A Thunderstorm And
A Forest Fire At The Same Time
there is a storm of quiet
rain in your eyes
from a distance it is
streaks of heavy purple
on a mountain top
blue glaze that says, “hello
come along, my friend”
something warm in the
invitation, orange and brown
pulls you into frame
forests, acres, burned swiftly
in a single act of passion
flames lick everything
they can taste
to rebuild upon
black flats of
ash

Rust

gypsy blood burns hot
embers left in an abandoned fire
that warm nothing

we must keep moving, karma
licks at our ankles
you must look out for yourself

do not return home.
for even the jackdaws
will steal your gold