Wednesday, January 18, 2017

The Flickering Flame

I looked deep within the flickering flame,
Watching the orange and red dance, leap and lick
Heating the bars of the cold metal frame,
Devouring the leaves and broken sticks.

Its flames, like fingers trying to reach high
To gather more things that could be consumed
Meeting only the darkness of the sky
And the stares of three as it popped and fumed.

Thinking of the next day, I sat awake.
My heavy eyes had already grown red
And I knew that I should very soon take
Leave from my friends, and find myself a bed.

But, not moving, I continued to slouch
Staring intently at our glowing torch
From the gentle comfort of that old couch
As shadows danced around us on the porch.

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