January 6

once, when i was glass
and the morning sun was still high in the sky
i could see the rainbows
shimmering through my skin

the road was long in front of me
but i looked forward to the walk

once, when i was steel
and the noontime clouds crept and dawdled
i could see the reflections
dancing on my flesh

the road was curved and ominous
through the thickening wood

now that i am wooden
and the afternoon light strains through the trees
i can see the wisps of smoke
from my embered soul
and i cannot see the road

— ptkh 010614

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