No Ignition Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A drift, so light, no ground beneath,
Among kin, with different breath.
Like sparks that fly, but find no flame,
Each with a charge, a different name.

A spark, it seeks a place to burn,
To feel the heat, a lesson learn.
But here, just wind, no kindling near,
A lonely hum, a whispered fear.

The air is thick with those like me,
But alien sparks, wild and free.
Their powder waits, a different hue,
And mine just floats, not seeing through.

Perhaps a mistake, a turn unseen,
The wrong tide caught, where I should have been.
Just drifting on, a silent plea,
For soil to root, for ground to be.