Delirium

Nocturne No. 8

I rambled under burning pines
Though nothing burned except for the fevered
Wind whose rasping breath delivered
Worship of the kindling kind

And I could have gone like that for hours
Sharing in the delirium
Of one enraptured element
Emulating another’s roars

But the pines grew thin—until I could hear
The lightning of a loved one’s voice
No closer to meeting me across
The plains of unignited air