She is a sprite, a glowing dot,
daughter of a spark from the burgeoning fire.
She dances just outside reality,
watching her mother ignite the flames.
She is learning her future job,
seeing how to turn up the heat.
She studies the timber,
looking for the spots that will catch.
She dances among the billowing smoke,
waiting with endless patience.
She knows the winds will come, gusting,
carrying her to new prey,
when she becomes more than just
c. 10/4/2016 Betsy A. Riley