Three Line Lunch: Fire Flowers
a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 315
Dozens of points off balcony: screechers, warbling whistlers & cracklers; pops & booms.
Far and close: ones that bloom, ones that burst; pink & green sprayers and white twirlers.
Through our tree a whine: straight above a golden fire flower explodes, showers dark ash.