FIRESIDE
How flames rise from the wood
a lick of their forked tongue
appears and vanishes
into that cavern of dream,
and embers sing their song.
The cat with her soft fur
and calm exterior
watches the flicker: she
shares magic with the flames
and keeps their secrets. We
sit quiet and remember
how life began that way,
quietly watching heat
glow out of wood and peat
and how their abstract art
was all the human heart
had need of. How the flame
expands into a flower
then drops and fades to ashes.
How fire is what we will:
it links us with the dead
who sat much as we sit
and said much as we said.
Its moments of delight
are here today, tonight.
How fire is abstract. Flames
are more worth watching than
the road or television.
How fire warms to our vague
grasp of its memories.
Sally Evans (Sally-ee)
http://www.poetryscotland.co.uk
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