passersby exclaimed
we had no idea
just what was happening
but foom
and there she went
the witnesses were puzzled
and walked away, shaking their heads
leaving just you, watching
wondering what the hell
is going on here
and in your house, too.
I have no explanation
that would make sense to you
no reason
no thought
are you kidding?
perhaps it was a whim, or a dream
perhaps just hormones gone awry
a sad commentary on our permissive times
film at eleven
but, sleepwalking,
that flame led me on
toward the phantom treasure
gleaming like a wraith in the mist
or panting, like two bodies
in the sweat of an August night
perhaps I mistook it
for something I really deserved
and I would have gone further
if reason and propriety
or perhaps it was fear
hadn't stepped out of your mouth
and drenched the fire
leaving me in ashes, smoldering
and bemused
January 1996