Fervent Heat

Today there is a fire glow
from yesterday’s bombs
shedding light, a cobbled
understanding of Dante,
his Inferno, but I see not
one retribution for my crime
against the world. I only see
the ash outline of me
and cinders still smoldering.

   
But I hold my breath
in the nuclear wind
that tells all my bones.
Hell buffets the coal remains
clinkering as wind chimes
whispering requiem.
   
I am swirling fly ash,
for a moment, incendiary,
scorching the cross.