Helen Ivory
The Fire Dress
And when the fire began to
consume the fleshy wood,
she began to add more to feed
its whetted appetite.
The hotter the flames became,
the more wood she added,
spurred on by its passion.
Still she added more.
And then, let god be my witness,
she took the fire into her hands
as if it were the finest silk,
and wove a dress for herself.
A long, flowing dress of
golden orange fire.
A dress more beautiful
than any I have ever seen.
Not content with that,
she took another ball of fire
into her hands,
turning it this way and that.
A magnificent horse reared
from those flames.
It gnashed and writhed,
barely containing its spirit.
And all at once,
she leapt upon that beast and rode away,
leaving a trail of burning grass
that would later turn to black.
Page(s) 76-77
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