That fire had burned long and hard

Incendiary, at times glorious

Flames stretching up into the sky’s eternal night

Approaching to almost the stars above


Yet, as all fires do, it died down

Burnt out in the morning after glare of the rising sun

Drenched with a torrent of cold water


It was out

No smoke no fire


Yet a coal must have slumbered somewhere in that fireplace

Some ember deeply embedded in some nook or cranny

Perhaps some new fuel was thrown onto the grate

Or blew through an open window

Like dried leaves on a courtyard floor

Swirled by dust devil windsprites

Conspiring to spark something up

Some warmth to take the edge off

Cozying up to the idea

Setting a flame dancing again



David Trudel  © 2012



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