More Fire by Jeff P. Jones



	Jeff P. Jones More Fire Midnight on the Gulf of Finland Spreads black so thin it bleeds Into blue. From every country We leave our rooms, walk along streets Past raccoon-eyed youth, past babushka Tribes hawking jars of berries, all of us Trapped in an in-between world Gauzed with blue. For ten years I have lived that night, smelt smoke Purling up under a sky without light, Without dark, waited for morning’s golden Wince, that first parting of the blinds. Return to Volume 4.2


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