FEU FOLLET

the restless underbelly of the trees
seems lit tonight with LEDs
whose chain-reaction burning fuse
the pyrotechnic evening strews
with luminescent wicks
on the branches’ glowing sticks,
as if there were a wire
between the limbs of spreading fire,
the tossing carnival balloon
of an instigating moon
torching leaves with distant matches
until the island finally catches,
our rustling world luciferin’d,
siphoned by the lunar wind
finally into real-life odes
as our made-up world implodes.