Sharon Black



Fire Pit

After the tears, the promises-to-never,
we stoke the cheminea
with bundles of oak, slide shut the safety grate
and sit, hand in hand,
under a star-crossed sky.

How I envy these flames –
their brilliance when they burn,
their hunger,
their confidence when leaping
from one world into another.

 

(Silver Wyvern prize, Poetry on the Lake International Competition 2016)

Copyright © Sharon Black 2017