Friday, July 2, 2010

Ghosts in Philly

The plan so far: Head down midday Saturday, explore some Independence Day history in Philly then in the early evening, take that ghost tour.

Not sure if I will drive or take a train.

Either way, I think it will give me some perspective on tweaks for Heritage Fields and the follow-up book I am already plotting: November Tomorrow.

It's been several years since I stomped around Philly, will be nice to give it another look.

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Flame and Bone

When I was made from fire
Poured into the tender vessel of caution
That keeps my smoke from rising
Quickly did I discover that apart from crisp drizzles or falling snow
The world chilled my touched
Walking the narrow cornered gap between girders and cut stone
One learns to tuck his shoulders in or risk
Jostling a neighbor passing by rapt with want
For a clear path without the distraction
Of another man's boiling eyes
The tip of a finger
That oldest of all weapons
Grown deadlier and pristine in its invention
Gathers a mote of a cinder on its bare flesh
And turns pondering how best to scratch the impious itch
Prying open the tender seam
Where the oil of thought dews
Offering a new wick to ignite
Squirming alive as a salamander of mischief
That yearns for a taste of air it is so ready to devour
The steam of breath betrays me
Before the glint of orange spreads
In popping bright waves
Eroding the fibers feeding it
Leaving naught but ash
As my shell of quietude falls away