The sky is burning,
the last light
eclipsed by the night
and we stop and stare
like fools at its blaze,
not seeing within this gaze
possibility falling though our hands
like snowflakes in a season
that has kept captive the summer.
The sky is burning
while we travel in taxis,
all of us back-seat partakers
being driven down roads
we know not where they lead
as our minds run tattered threads
along all the tracks
we wanted to press with our own print
but we cannot choose a direction
like a snowflake cannot control its pattern.
The sky is burning
with a fine filigree
of fire and ice,
with thoughts we try to catch hold of
but flames are ever changing
and no snowflake is the same
and we take hold of other dreams
others dreamt of
in other beds
under other skies blazing
through futile snow storms
and we melt, like a snowflake
in the dry heat of an early autumn.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on Soundcloud