Did you know that the fire sprites dance for me?
No one else sees them, only me.
They break timber and log as they jump and leap.
Their hair grows towards the sun in a sunset orange,
But greens, blues, and purples may deign to make an appearance.
Their voice is a rhythm of crackles and pops,
Few when dulcet and many when they are excited.
In another world, I’ve seen her in her human form
Wearing a coat of sunset tulle brushing past her charcoal feet.
She dances in the center of spinning bodies circumvented by a forest.