Wicking

The water is fast

moving up the thread

and that movement overtakes a person,

that feeling you could be turned

into air.

Where is the art of the firefly

lighting so naturally its body?

We loved them of course,

and there was no kerosene,

no history coming to us,

nothing moving up the wick,

but I am.

Maybe I am burning with life

until at last I am light.