August on the Terrace

Ariel Dawn

Forest fires rage so close the morning sky is ash, the city smoke and gold, haunted with tree spirits and elementals. All month I cast spells. This one for love: circle of red velvet, rose petals, felt heart and silver earrings sewn together with hair. Shadows cross antique light. On the street a lady wanders in regal gypsy dress. She looks heavenward for the guitar, the fiery ancient song a boy plays, while black and white birds land on rails and windows open above and below.

Ariel Dawn lives in Victoria, British Columbia. She spends her time writing, reading, and studying Tarot. Recent work appears in canthius, (parenthetical), Foxhole, Room, and is forthcoming in A Furious Hope anthology.

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