The Fire

Can’t remember the match, just the magic of the fire We were both oddly lured - a forbidden desire Eyes glued to the flame. Was it fire we blamed? Or that childhood game? So miraculously sacred with fear mixed inside I was age seven, Joey was five. Strike one, blow it out. Strike two and strike three.. The flame was in charge of him and of me. We heard someone coming The fourth match was lit Joey afraid, he grabbed onto my wrist “Hide it in here!” and he covered the flame With the top of his ‘jammies’ And the terror began. So much more to this story All the lives it touched sorely. A Karmic Event, throwing life one more blow The strike of a match so long, long ago The ripple of waves it left in it’s tow There are people in heaven Who really do know Every blessing that match caused With it’s powerful glow. For me it’s still baggage And I miss Joey so....