I’m reticent.

moved from fervor
to ash; quiet
and tiny
but once bright
and orange and cascading
across forests with great
devastation.  the speck
left from a great
war, unheard,
falling to the dirt
and settling on
unobserved and
silent.
but you?
you will remember
the way my bones
crackle when touched.
the way i burned.

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