Torches of fingers
ash in the sky
mantles of rust recede into burning dust
Spinning as a circle against the sun
pointing with flicking light to those around
carrying the weight of sunset in twisting flame
Layers of red
over legs of night
conducting shooting spires from spiders’ webs
a wheel of fire
dances in my hands
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For more of Grant Hope, you can find books, audio visual poetry, and his “Poetry Respite” newsletter at his website: granthopestudios.com