First saturday of April

curving my voice 

under the door

a fictional fire

a story in store

bought a way, wayward 

folded my arms

a towering tunnel

no sound in alarm

I wanted to know you

to hold such a charm

and if we're so lucky

as to see that far

The event on horizon

just over the curve

the fire of sunset

your eyes start to burn

It's only the season

It's only our lives

Do you still believe 

in stories at night

The arc of the tree line

The cauldron of earth

faith and a flashlight

or whatever works