The Passed Note Issue 6 February 2018 - Page 15

Dakota Galvin

What the Fire Left Us

I’ve always turned my nose toward

the buildings

that burn – if not the burning

buildings, the boy who started the fire

& stands at the edge of the flame, asking,

what do I do now?

with palms –

palms covered in ash

stretched in surrender.

I tell myself: remember this moment:

the boy,

the ash on

the palms –

the palms under

the fire,

the smoke,

the fight,

the surrender,

the flight

I tell him: remember the story

of the phoenix, rising,

from the ash it

made & remember this: