for Grace

I know Grace
who speaks to fire.
She tells this on herself
as if she doesn’t see
her strangeness
(I think she does, a bit)—
how when she’s building it
she’s quiet, except for music on.
Then when it’s laid to suit her,
she stands back,
affirms what she has done;
just before she strikes the match,
she turns the music down, and
with a flourish, Burn,she says,
and lights the fire.