In/Ferno         Black/Out
       

Thick night caught like hair
in a drain, & stars

blinking out of wet soot
scape. This & red

tail lights. Watch
long enough & every

thing's in alchemy—
fog becomes

smoke & small
yellow flares, turn

signals, flames. All is on
burn: an expanse of fire

eating through—doorknobs, canned
pantries, the sshzzzz

of heat hooked into the upholstery
—licking along

the parlor windows
before flashing out

as history into fields & onto
roadways. In peripheral

vision the Firelands rise: a smolder
of carlights so close they appear in

ferno—a turnpike crackling
itself back into black out.

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Copyright © 2014 Cori A. Winrock All rights reserved
from This Coalition of Bones
Kore Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission