The Medium and the Message

How can one describe the beautiful intricacy
      of smoke taking flight
      from the glowing orange-red ember
           at the end of the young girls’
           magic-wand campfire sticks
as they trace their names in the sky?
Words
      could speak of the transparent twining vines
           of hot ghostly calligraphy swirling
           into accidental Celtic knots which
           lift and twist on warm updrafts
      and glide on the subtlest of chance breezes.
Paint
      could say something like this :
Smoke
But I think Noam Chomsky, 
      and most likely Picasso and Shakespeare, 
      and perhaps even Smokey the Bear
           would agree
 the best medium for the job is matches.
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3 thoughts on “The Medium and the Message”

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