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Ashes to Ashes
written by: Tina Privitera-Reynolds
A worker stubs out a cigarette.
The kind that rises blue puffs.
On the innocent arm of a tree. A mother of honey-gold suckles. Petals
wilting. Heavy with tears in a sigh.
She wears a nicotine bruise on her
mossy trunk. The cigarette rolls to her feet, her poking-out roots. Not
extinguished. A light smolder warms to spreading heat. Her svelte figure
dissolves in elegant smoke rings. The season was dry. Catching sparks in
her fibers was painful. Sparks turn
to flickering flames. With a ravenous
appetite for vulnerable flesh. A chain
begins. They fall in grey heaps of ash
and blue hell. Fire and brimstone. A fallen green cluster. Charred stumps
and wisps of dust for headstones. A lunch break can change a landscape.