Fire under footfall.
Fire over skies.

Fire on a matchstick.
Fire in my eyes.

Fire holding hunger.
Fire seeking wood.

Fire hiding danger.
Fire feeling good.

Tell me, Mama,
Where does the sun come from
in the morning?

Where does it go to
when it reaches the edge of the field?

Furrows unfurl,
Carved by the plough – Curl, fold, fall back:
The skin peels away.