The Fires
A fire starts in a hollow log
or leaves in a branch, so hot
suddenly that creatures flee
who know enough of heat
they've heard it all before
I ask if you're in danger, you say
not red like a Rothko painting
won't stop here unless water kills
that fire log, which you say is
sucked away from passion
or cleverness, exploded
out of carelessness, now
suddenly that creatures flee
who know enough of heat
they've heard it all before
I ask if you're in danger, you say
not red like a Rothko painting
won't stop here unless water kills
that fire log, which you say is
sucked away from passion
or cleverness, exploded
out of carelessness, now
utes loaded up with stuff
spare the home and shed
burn off the fear, courage
for the days that follow, heave
in smoke, what frankly is no more
look back on, then disappear.
spare the home and shed
burn off the fear, courage
for the days that follow, heave
in smoke, what frankly is no more
look back on, then disappear.
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