Poem for Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Burn

I knew a girl
shapeless save
her crooked spine

plain as beige
tasteless as
communion crackers

but her eyes
the last two embers
under heaps of ash

dig deep enough
you can extract them
from their sockets

pocket them and
you’ll burn glowing
a newborn phoenix

she had a name
that blew away like
refuse over the sea