The Flash Trail

I hovered about the Pacific seeking the burn of a flash trail
That flared bright and blasting colors across the midnight sky.

I found it waiting in white sand as I contemplated the tide.
It was a fragment of color blinded by black and white.

When it saw me, it spiraled upward then dove into the waves,
pushed against the current while spinning grace through coral reefs,

weaved baskets of driftwood, made disco balls of fish schools,
and road dolphin sound waves on the highest notes pitched.

I clicked my boots I converted into levitation devices
and blasted a charge into the heart of the ocean mist.

I used lightening bolts like ski poles as my momentum control.
I reached to capture it with light speed in my heavy feet

hoping for its glowing grace to graze my fingertips,
but the speed of light traveled faster than my effort.

So my boots transformed into rocket ships and exploded with fury
as I extended my body to the tail end of the flash trail.

I stretched until I felt my limbs begin separate from their sockets,
felt my vertebrate stretch, and dislodge themselves from my hips.

But at last! I caught the anaconda-esque tail whipping to and fro.
The flash trail carried me through obscure galaxies,

dragged me through parallel and adjacent universes,
and coiled around me for solitude in trying times.

But soon it became too warm, and it jerked slowly away in the heat of flames.
I tried to hold on, gripped until my hands exploded with friction,

and blisters ate away at the calluses I spent years covering myself with.
I realized I was holding a flame, and it would only burn me in the end,

then left me with a pile of dust to sweep up and sprinkle into an urn
to remind myself that I tried as hard as I possibly could.