Silent Blaze

If I were bold I'd let it burn...

Crisp in contrast with the night,
the sudden sulfur spark-
         A match ignited.

Flame kindled, quick and angry,
scuttles toward my fingers.

         If I were bold,
         I'd let it burn.

Instead I cower from the heat,
and force the fire's yellow brilliance
into the slow smolder of a cigarette.

Intricate, the curls and tendrils,
seeping from irritated cherry specks.
I watch my indignant valor
snake upward with the smoke.

I drag deeply on heavy fumes
and thick regret,
taking time to tap the soot
of resignation to the ground,
the only product of my silent blaze.