Reflection of a Wildfire When Nothing is Burning

by Amanda Hawk


Water burns in the layers of fall leaves.
It sizzles and ripples
as sunlight gathers in each crease.

The ochre of the canopy saturates my skin
and I pull the crisp air into my lungs.
It rushes through my chest,

a wildfire plucking at my nerves,
until I am awake.
Childhood memories tingle my fingertips.

Camping trip tents and backyard bonfires
singe the edges of my view,
burning with images of Orange Crush cans,

pigtails in neon barrettes,
and headless plastic army men.
I catch reflections of a little girl

skimming over the water.
A skipping stone with dirty knees
and missing baby teeth.

My eyes keep her bobbing in and out of the topaz waves,
crashing out images of her riding bikes
and kicking up puffs of dust.

I want to chase after her
and swallow up her laughter
until it simmers in my stomach.

Watch her ride toward the sun
with arms stretching into wings,
preparing to launch herself upward

into the cloudless sky.
My feet smolder and my palms throb 
with each drawn out breath.

Yearning rests at the corner of my eyes,
and nestles in building tears,
and I want to be that little girl again

with wildfire yell and roaring hunger
ready to eat up her future.


* * * * *

Amanda Hawk is Best of the Net-nominated and Pushcart Prize-nominated Poet.  She lives in Seattle between the roaring planes and the city’s neon lights.  Amanda has been featured in multiple journals including Volney Road Review, Rogue Agent and the winnow magazine.  She released her first chapbook in 2023 called Rain Stained City.  Recently, she placed second in the Seattle Crypticon Horror Short Story contest.