on the even, round hill,
there burnt a flame, flickering longingly towards the sky,
comparing itself (delirious) to the stars winking back.

it had no idea how many ghosts circled it
and neither was it interested in the shadows born out of its groin,
flowing in all directions and melting in the night’s darkness,
and while the fire tongues kept trying to find their way towards the sky,
higher and higher,
the damn stars seemed to cry louder.

“i should be up-there, with them”
danced the flame like a dervish,
throwing into the night shadow after shadow,
thickening the root of dreams and wasting itself into sparks.

the stars were up, above it,
and that was all that mattered,
so it kept flickering towards them,
in some sort of a primitive morse code,
while night kept sniffing patiently the flame’s death
well hidden in the water bucket
only two meters away.
© 2014 Liliana Negoi



originally written in Romanian 

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