The Fireplace
By Zac Langridge
It sits in the center of the wall
Magnificent, carved shapes in it’s strong framing
The centerpiece of attention, located in the ideal spot
Neither an eyesore, nor something of sheer beauty
Perfect
In its center rests a log
A symbol of a tree, once proud, now fallen
The log delivers heat, warming the room, comforting the cold
The glow spreads out from it
Warm
Calm, yet dangerous if touched
Like a rose thorn
The soft crackling fills the room
As I crouch down to warm my freezing hands
I watch the yellow fingers of matter
Curl upward and disappear
Like mysteries, waiting to be solved
I sit there, and let the heat calm me….
To sleep……...
No comments:
Post a Comment