Thursday, January 1, 2009


To cleanse a house
sophisticates of superstition burn sage

The light leaves bundled with thread
prone to immolation and stillness

Easy to blow on the bundles
illicit billows of smoke

But you must remember to believe
cast out your doubts into the embers

The smell clinging to room's corners
like baby birds haunt their flight filled mothers
will remind you of your hopes
or what you would burn away.

1 comment:

Oleg said...

Elegant way of drawing different dimensions from fire
Polished verse worn smooth with water like the perspiration of a stone