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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1882768
The timelessness of a roaring, spitting fire
I watched the fire
As it spit and it spat
And I sat and I thought
Of fires before
Like this one but far
In camps, near tents
In manors, in trenches
Witnesses to the weighing of decisions
The meetings of friends
Participant to the savouring of outcomes
Melting away
Cold winter chills and fresh autumn rains
Memories of hearth and home
Of hope and safety
While the portents of tomorrow's day
Tomorrow's journey, slipped like smoke to the sky
© Copyright 2012 James Callahan (jcallahan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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