Fire Season Lizard
I light the small fire now to avoid the wild fire later.
Pruned cedar boughs burn like gasoline.
The heat builds.
I move back.
She rushes in, slender chocolate brown and turquoise belly.
Pausing to do a set of pushups, she advances to the red-hot edge of the fire, risking incineration to drive the cold of the morning from her blood.
To feel the warmth of the sun before sunrise.
Her blood thins and she runs like lightening into the cool jewels of dew on the grass.