Fire

She would have made a ring around the rosie had she recognized it to be a rosie in the first place. 
Her feet left blazes in their path, a forest fire on legs.
Her hands crafted sleep in more ways than one. 
Pockets were filled with a posie more lethal than good. 
It wrung a curtain over her mind of stirred embers and dancing flames. 
Had she been able to pull it back, she might have stopped her slumbering wake. 
But before she knew it...
Ashes, ashes. They all fell down. 

~E