'Blue waits inside a perfect flame
To dismiss the dross,'
Calefaction
In the heat of midsummer after the flow
of perspiration twice, late afternoon and
early eve due to mowing the lawn
I think of the trees that have fallen due to
storms and once dry, how fine they will
burn - after I’ve used up the majority of
the cord of wood I bought last year
that sits on pallets and cedar planking
Odd to think about that dancing flame
after the heat of the sun has melted
pounds off of my flesh...
And yet, I am inclined and inspired
to dream of a time when I’ll have to don
extra layers, and miss the buzz of bees
and the blinking of the fireflies as well as
be thankful for the lack of mosquitoes
Will I be happy to slosh in from winters slag
just to be able to burn some wood - and
get lost in the perfection of the perfect flame?
On a quiet night, I’ll wait for the reflection of the
sun within the face of the full moon - in the western
garden, breath in zero degree weather - and attempt
to remember the sound that once filled the now empty
nests tucked in the porches eaves... the hearth calls
I can hear the crackle of consumption as the
wood shifts and embers fall between the grate...
in the heat of midsummer
©JP/davh
