The Heat Remaining

Fire in the night. Warmth. Light.
Memories too, radiate out,
reach you, penetrate you.
Flames. Coals. A place to remember.
A time to forget everything except the fire.
One side of you warm. The other cold.

At least for a while. Give it time
and the heat will warm you all the way through.
The cold will lose its power,
as long as you add fresh wood.

Tonight it is scraps. Odds and ends
from a half dozen projects over the past three years.
Nubs and ends and endings, up in flames,
Bright one last time,
Not unlike yourself as you age,
warmed by love one last unexpected time.
Burning bright. The nubs and ends consumed.
The heat remaining.

About this Poem

I have been fortunate enough to find love later in my life. Or about fires in the night. Poetry is never about one thing.

The picture was taken in my back yard, in the firepit.

Tom