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
Dashed
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
