Little dancing fuzzes
All black and somewhat working
They walk daintily back and forth
Fueling the fire
But in reality I can see them as part of a celebration
Outside it is the same
Spirits coming and dancing their own dance
It is like a festival of horrors
And yet entertaining
But I must be careful
Before they see the true me
It they can see I am human
In their celebration
They will search and find the truth they desire
I then realize what I see is what is happening
And I go back to what I was seeing in the little
Sootballs
For their working is dancing of the spirits