Fire

Fire licks at the material around
wanting to burn it to a crisp, but not quite knowing how
Fire's heat warms all that come near
still, all it would like to do is consume all in it's grasp
Fire clings to its kindle, desperate
but it would like to roam, burn free of it's containment
Fire begs for one more chance, hoping
as Cloud brews overhead, relentless and unforgiving
Fire chokes out a few more sparks
before letting Rain kill, merciless in his pursuit
Cloud looks down in approval
as charred ground is the only thing that remains

Author's Note

Thanks for reading.

Reviews

[M.E.Lyle]

I love sitting around a nice cozy fire. I imagined the warmth coming from the fire as I read your well scripted poem. I'm not much of a poet myself, just a silly story teller.
But, back to your poem. It reminded me of a day this week when I set a fire in our little cheap Wal-Mart fire pit. I could hear the crackling of the embers as they sparkled and shot little pieces in all directions.
I think my cats enjoyed it too. It was pretty chilly out.
Have a great day.