Sunday, July 31, 2016

#200 Kevin Brophy 'Burning the logs'

#200 ‘Burning the logs’

The fire began with a usual blaze and pop.
We sat around it.
We pushed logs further in
as talk pushed further
into the past.

We kept looking into it
as it demanded,
and it danced for us
even exploded a little for us.

In time, someone said,
each one of us
becomes an ancestor,
and we understand
this is a return to the present
as ash, as message, as reminder.

With diminishing pirouettes
and dying flourishes it threatened
to disappear
as we pulled our chairs in
our faces over its glow
our palms out in surrender to it.

Night a world at our backs
the past at last too vast
for anyone to find a thread,
someone found water,
the dark hissed in on us,

night was there all over the place again.


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