Anger...
it burns just below my heart...
a slow heat prone to flares,
quick to rise and dance
in righteousness
regardless
of passing creatures
who cannot sense
the miasma deep inside
and ...walk
a wide circle around me.
Fires gone wild
radiate heat
so hot
that one cannot venture too near
without being burned.
Forgive me dandilions
as I rip and tear
pull you out by your roots
vent my bitterness
standing here alone,
under the sky,
under the clouds
listening to the swishing new leaves
of trees
and the arriving celebrations of the birds...
burned by my anger
digging in the dirt.
Forgive me.
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