Nocturne with Flame

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Closeup of campfire.

Nocturne with Flame

Not imposition, but welcome.

Another’s stirred embers, banked
and forming the kindling’s base.

Thus the licked paper curling with smoke,
stars shooting into the blackness,
and finally, exploding light
transformed to heat.

From one’s loss, another’s gain.

The flickering on my cheek.
Inhaled bitterness and memory.
The wait, the period before.

Like the owl in the live oak,
or the mice under our floor
returning, I celebrate the cycle,
and grow warm.

mouse

47 thoughts on “Nocturne with Flame”

  11. This is quite thought-provoking in its central metaphor – bringing in the owls and mice worked to shed light from another angle, I think.

    And of course I like the thought of a nice fire.

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  13. Just a couple of days ago I lit a fire. It was cold and I wanted to do my years end paperwork sort. As it got going and I went to sit with the papers I noticed it was snowing gently. Somehow it seemed an appropriate moment to clear a lot of things I needed to let go. Many papers went into the fire as symbols of the process. It was very soothing and your poem once again echoes my thoughts and feelings at the moment.

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