Wildfire

White dark
and a hummingbird
pressed into juniper,
a ghost-god,
wings unseen,
and, hours later,
a hawk, tail stripes larger
than a planet’s rings,
and, at dusk, a family of robins
bathed in the pink mottle,
their sun kept in a drawer and cotton ball muffled,
and a bat
flying above them.

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Learn more about Francesca Varela's novels
Francesca Varela hiking in the forest with her dog

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