Fire

warm potbellied stove-
the winter air crackles with
electricity
–
dry night air-
your touch
shocking

a gilded mirror-
reflections of other lives
from across the room
–
frosted windows-
fire reflected
in your eyes

well after midnight
christmas eve fire in the hearth
burning down to ash
–
a warm hearth-
ashes mix with
the falling snow

black potbellied stove-
the evening’s load of firewood
stacked up along side
–
stars in the sand-
our fire stoked
by the ocean breeze

warm morning sunlight-
a vague shadow on the wall
in the shape of you
–
a glass of wine-
the warm glow
on your face

whispers of thunder
dry lightning in distant hills
the rain long absent
–
autumn hills-
ashes rain
on the valley

gauzy hardwood smoke
rises into the night air
obscuring the moon
–
drifting embers-
folding chairs
around the fire

a fire in the hearth-
my well worn leather arm chair
and a mug of tea
–
frosted glass-
your cold feet
under my legs

downcast hazel eyes-
blistered feet dangle from the
hospital gurney
–
bitter winds-
the horizon
set aglow

a black bitter pill
taken with a glass of bile-
so hard to swallow
–
november morn-
the push is over
now I taste salt.