Wood Burner

Molten crimson velvet
sloughing ash
delicately grey,
irregular pulsations,
silent throbbings,
vermillion to black.

Fire.
contained
in an iron box
with a viewing glass,
appearing tamed – 
illusion.

Flames lick.
Flames dance.
Flames reach 
and retreat
in yellows, purples,
oranges, blues,
radiating heat,
drying clothes,
removing moisture.

Fire.
Held.
Contained, barely.
Always like the sea
untameable, 
wild, 
unpredictable,

Fire grabbing the air,
pulling to itself wood,
devouring,
all 
the while
random sparks
ascending,
in hiss, spit, crackle.

Flame consuming,
irreverent, uncaring
tumbling down
fireworkings,
a cascading aurora
in a box,
mesmerising
magical,
menacing,
drifting in place
needing no sky
for its dancing.

In reality,
we know so well now,
fire is a predator,
consuming and violent,
yet also
the paradox
when contained,
fire can be
friendly, warming, comforting. 

 

A Troubled Relationship

With you sweet Summer
I have a deeply troubled relationship.

Since I was a child
when you meant three months
away from school,
which I loved and missed
during the long hiatus,
and later as an adult
when you meant
long hot hours in the afternoon,
and the challenging blast
of your heat when leaving
the relieving artificial cool
of air conditioning at work,
and the thunderstorms
breaking as I ran from
bus stop to home safety,
never ave I been easy with you.

Then there was the horrible
dry year lived in Phoenix,
where like today
I had a migraine,
but that one lasted
the whole of my desert time,
parched, desiccating, light,
ah, the light way too much
for me almost as harsh
as the interminable heat.

Though now I can seek
respite in a shady garden
or a dense green wood,
the physical discomfort
is not diminished,
for I find your extremes
punishing and cruel,
for even in the night
when darkness descends
the temperatures and humidity
do not always follow.

I have a long way to go
to make my peace with you,
for though I know we need you,
were it not for what you alone offer
we would starve,
still I continue struggling,
after all the decades we have shared,
with the gifts you bring
in abundance of light and heat,
to fulfill the promises of Spring.

With you sweet Summer
I have a deeply troubled relationship.