Campfire, Campfire
Campfire, campfire, sizzles and cracks,
a pillar of light in an ocean of black,
where the predators hunt, stalk, and track,
flames remind them: from mankind stay back.
Child are poking, with sticks growing charred,
swinging them in arcs, sending off sparks,
melting plastic spoons, twisting them into ‘art,’
away from their phones, it warms parents' hearts.
Kids go to sleep, the moonshine comes out,
passed in a mason jar with a wide mouth,
warming as the flames, makes people loud
tales of ‘epic doings,’ everybody touts.
Long hours passing, friends move away,
taking to tents to sleep ‘till the day.
One remains behind, stares deep in the flames,
brooding on troubles in a world shaded gray.
Dawn arrives slowly, the sunrise a sight,
a slow spread of orange that turns into light.
Campfire, campfire, has lost all it’s might,
a muddle of cinders, at least until night…
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017
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