family reunion on the second floor 

there is a fire but only on the second floor 
of my great-aunt's house. they don't use
the upstairs anymore & the whole floor 
slowly grows farther & farther away 
from the rest of the house. the stretching happens 
only on the inside. 
outside the house is quiant & beautiful.
the fire is also beautiful. i burns everywhere 
& only i know about it. i don't want to scare them.
my aunts are too old for the truth 
fire will bring. it flickers across the banisters 
& toils in the middle of their beds they no longer use.
they sleep in their easy chairs--
tv still on-- tv drowning out the smell
of burning. old stuffed animals burning.
curtains burning--even the faucet in the bathroom
drips with fire. what is fire
asking of them? the first time i saw the flames
i tried to put them out but these days
when i visit i try to talk to them. 
all the ghosts are in the fire. grandfathers 
& grandmothers & dead dogs all winding
between each other. they all want to eat
pears from the tree in the backyard.
they all want permission to go downstairs 
& i tell them to stay where they belong.
i lay in the bathtube of fire 
& i can hear a re-run of a baseball game
on the television downstairs. crack of 
a bat. a player running as far as he can.
if i'm being honest i know 
very little about my aunts & even less
about our family. so then why does the house
show only me this fire? the flames don't destroy me--
they lick my face. they try to turn me
into another ghost but my skin refuses fire.
maybe it's because i am an outsider.
my flesh prickles with light. they are going
to sell the house soon but we don't know when.
the future is wide & burning. they tell me 
the same stories over & over. they fall asleep
for blotches of time. they recognize me yes
but they don't know what i mean
in this house. sometimes i worry 
that i started the fire & just don't remember
but fires are always being born.
i kiss the fire goodbye before i leave.
it rushes around me. the second floor grows
a little bit taller.